The Ladies Page


| November/December 1969



COUNTRY ECHOES

Since we last met on the Ladie's Page life has handed us many experiences, but the one that stands out rather stickily is having an egg thrown at us on a Saturday morning - and this at 5:30 A.M. We were driving out of Boise, Idaho, headed back to Wisconsin.

We were just getting settled back into our seat belts. Dawn was spreading a rim of light across the surrounding buttes. SPEED ZONE AHEAD reminded us to slow to the prescribed limit. And then it happened. CRAACK - SPLUISH!

'What was that?' I shouted in a most unladylike way.

'I don't know,' was my husband's startled answer. But then I turned my head and my tongue came darting out of my mouth in the second unladylike gesture of the morning. It turned down in distaste as I looked at the window which had protected my nice clean head.

'Uish,' I said in dismay. 'Uish. Keep on driving.' I shouted orders like a seasoned sergeant to a company of green rookies. 'Don't stop. PLEASE,' I added with dictatorial firmness. 'If that goop ever runs down in the window we are going to have a mess.' Involuntarily I moved over closer to Alfred. Whoops! The seat belt was holding me. I pushed the release gadget and again I almost shouted. 'Look! Just look! What is it?' By now it practically covered the whole window and the wind was working it around in strange, sloppy patterns.

'Do you suppose some big bird flew over and laid an egg in flight?' my husband asked, tongue in cheek. He was thoroughly enjoying my early morning exhibition of woman's squeamishness.