Chicken Little

August had me boasting about my “tough girl” image but the diary tells a different tale:

June 25, 1969   Last Sunday Jeanette and peter showed me the Monkey Trails.  I was sort of scared but I got used to it.  Yesterday I went for the second time and I am pretty sure it’s my last ‘cause I’m sure if Dad found out we’d get into trouble ‘cause we have to cross the highway and Peter’s bike isn’t in such groovy condition.  Like no brakes for instance.  On Monday Jeanette and me followed the dirt road and there’s a honked out bridge the end.  It’s really rotting.  We crossed it and followed a path.  We didn’t take more than 10 steps before we started back. Later we came back and there were 2 policemen here.  I was scared they might see Pete’s bike but we were lucky.  Real lucky.  I’ve decided that on Sat. I’ll get about 6” cut off (of my hair). 

Hair was never something I cared much about but Mom has always been obsessed not only with her own hair but all her girls as well.  Even though I have naturally wavy hair I had a perm from the time I was seven.  Every summer before school started Jeanette and I had to have a perm.  It was torture.  And by high school when straight hair was the style, well, I was always in agonies of embarrassment about my curls.