Shriveled More Often Than Not In Our Pool

**(Picture of Connie and Miki before the pool was finished)

When I turned five, Dad started building our pool. Dad wrote in his life story, “We couldn't even wait for it to fill before we got out there in it. Now here is the hard part to believe about the pool. It only cost us $191.91. We built it out of the income tax return that year. That isn't counting labor. If I counted my labor, it cost us 1 million dollars"

I thought it was the greatest thing he had ever done. He built the house and garage, but they were of little consequence compared to our pool. Miki and I were in the pool while Dad was filling it for the first time and still painting it; we just couldn’t wait.

We had lots of visitors after the pool was finished; mostly the cousins. We had special games we played. Our favorite was “Dibble-Dabble.” One person would jump in with a small twig or matchstick and release it under water somewhere. When it floated to the top and someone saw it, they yelled, “Dibble-Dabble” and jumped in to get it. Then everyone else jumped in to create utter chaos and whoever ended up with the twig was the next to hide it.

We spent hours in the pool, playing mermaids, creating “gorgeous” hairdos by dipping our heads under the water, and flicking our heads back as we jumped up out of the water, creating little geysers. Sometimes there were monsters in the water and we had to stay on the steps so they wouldn’t gobble us up. Some days we’d pretend the brothers and boy cousins were the monsters and then we could leave the steps, but had to make it back before the monsters caught us. The only catch to the game was that we usually “forgot” to tell the boys they were the monsters. It was much more interesting that way.

**(Notice how “deep” the deep end of the pool is! That’s Blaine at age 5 and it’s all the way up to his waist!)
We spent so much time in the pool we were wrinkled more often than we weren’t. Most of the summer we looked like shriveled up prunes. The neighbors often saw a couple of wrinkled mermaids with fancy wet hairdos running across the hot dirt street to Teeny Weeny Market to buy Sugar Daddy suckers with “borrowed” money and rush back hopping and screaming with the searing pain on our bare feet. We’d shriek as we’d jump back into the pool--making mud, but it didn’t matter, it felt so good. That pool was our kingdom. We were queens, and if the boys happened to be in the pool, they were our slaves, and on those rare occasions they had to run across the hot dirt to the store for us. (We would let them buy a piece of candy-a small price to pay for no singed feet).

We had a lot of good times in our pool. It was only two-feet deep in the shallow end and went all the way to four-feet deep in the deep end, but it didn’t seem shallow to us; it was Olympic- sized in our minds. It was our heaven. We watched anxiously each time Dad put the chlorine in the water; he’d grab a gallon bottle and run around the edge of the pool, splashing glops all the way around. It always amazed me that he didn’t fall in while he was doing this because he always seemed to be leaning way over the edge the whole time. We set a portable TV near the side of the pool and spent many nights watching TV as we floated in the warm chlorinated water. Our favorite was to watch The Twilight Zone, staring at the stars and wondering when “the aliens” were coming to get us.

Dad’s Life Story says, “In 1955 I undertook the project of painting and building up around the pool. I built a Bar-B-Q and a waterfall out by it and also built a dressing room. When I filled the pool it took 4700 gallons of water to do it. We got us a 6-quart Ice Cream freezer that you don't have to crank by hand and boy do we enjoy ourselves out there by the pool; dive in and then get out and have some homemade ice cream. Boy is that good.”

We had summer Barbeques and parties. We loved cooking hamburgers and hot dogs on the brick Barbeque Dad built next to the pool. Best of all we loved Dad’s homemade ice cream. We took our turn cranking the handle that turned the metal container filled with cream that would soon be icy and delicious (and somehow, when Dad bought our first of many electric ice cream makers, it just didn’t taste as good as it had with all that hard work and anticipation). Our favorite was when Dad made maraschino cherry and pineapple ice cream, with a gumball hidden somewhere in it. Whoever got the gumball in their serving won an extra helping. Actually, all they got was a gumball because everybody got extra helpings.

We hated seeing the first big Santa Ana (Santana) winds of autumn because it always brought a pool full of leaves and dirt and no more swimming (mostly because who the heck was gonna scoop all that stuff out of the pool? Not us kids!).

Connie Wanna Penny?

**(Picture of Connie and Alta, who were born two-weeks apart)

The Lord has been good to me in blotting out all those traumatic memories before the age of five. That way Mom and Dad could fill in all those years with nothing but wonderful tales of babyhood and I’d have to take them at their word. Truthfully, I can’t imagine how life with a sweet, innocent, highly intelligent girl-child could be anything but a glorious experience. But come to think of it, that wasn’t how the story went; it seems to me there are a few family pictures of a “not-so-sweet” girl-child in action, too.

**(Pictures of Connie in the mud, and Connie being a pain in the rear)

I was told many times about my first contest and what an unwilling participant I was. Because I was two-weeks younger than my cousin Alta, it seems everyone in The Family expected me to do everything she did at least within two weeks. Mom always felt I should go at my own pace and that Dad’s family shouldn’t expect me to keep up with Alta. Daddy felt otherwise; at least on this occasion.

I was about a year old and because I was Daddy’s first child and we were visiting his family, he wanted to show me off; however, I was in no mood for games. It seems Alta stood on her head in front of everyone at Grandma’s house. Whether this was literally accomplished or just figuratively, I was never told, but the fact remains that she DID it! So Daddy, who saw the sun rise and set in little Connie, volunteered her head for “standing on.”

Connie thinks, “Ho! Ho! Nothing doing!”

Daddy says, “Come on, Connie. Alta got a penny for her little trick.”
Connie thinks again, “Hey, I can just take the penny, but no tricks to earn it.”

But Daddy says, “Nothing doing! Stand on your head if you want a penny.” Nothing ever comes cheap, but I still refuse and decide to see if tears would help. Ha! Lots of tears, but still Daddy says, “No headstand, no penny.”

**(Picture of Connie with Grandma Kemsley, the matron of "The Family")

Now there are plenty of tears and Daddy decides to paddle my wee little bottom because I refuse to abide by his child labor laws. Finally, Mommy can’t stand it any longer and comes to my rescue! She doesn’t like seeing everybody pick on poor little Connie and tells everybody to leave me alone and whisks me out Grandma’s front door. Boy, was she mad! I still wanted a penny.

**(Picture of "The Family" at Clifton's Cafeteria in L.A.-Mom standing at the back)

That’s pretty much how she felt about all us kids and “The Family.” She never really believed she fit in and stayed pretty much in the background whenever she could. I didn’t understand her feelings until I had in-laws of my own, and for no good reason, I was a little intimidated by them, too.