THE WIND AND I

I always loved the wind and wondered what it was about.

There was and still is a kind of enchantment for me when I see leaves dance with skittering delight across the horizon. And I hear music when I see tumble weeds join in a kind of natural chorus line. They eventually succumb to the wind and are forced to fall out of step with their group.

I now know that I am a tumbleweed that was forced to be a part of a social chorus line. Because I finally succumbed to a brisk wind in my life, I fell out of step with my group and became what I have known that I was since I was thirteen--I am and have always been a lesbian.

Growing up in the 40's was not conducive to think or speak about homosexuality. During this period there was a term for homosexuals and when I heard it in my home they were referred to as "god damn queers”!!! "Sex " was such a forbidden word that I can never remember saying it until I was in high school.

As I began to realize about my own sexuality, I knew that I must never let this secret out and it needed to be buried deeply. After all, I could not and would not be a "god damn queer".

The pain that goes with being a homosexual is only known by another homosexual trying to live in a heterosexual world. My true feelings about other women came to me strongly when I was 13 but I really knew before that time that there was something so different about the way I felt about women. It was at this age that I knew it was going to be important to bury what ever I felt because I was not one of those "god damn queers! "

How those words ring in my ears and the same pain rolls over me like a smothering darkness. That was because I constantly had to bury deep within me who I was. I buried and hid my true feelings for years! Who and how I was freed is my real story. There are other issues that were social values and restrictions at the time and I feel they are worth writing about so any young woman will understand what kept women trapped quietly in their minds and bodies.

I have two granddaughters and I would like them to understand that I lived a lie that I thought was totally necessary to protect my family. Was I a cheat?

Yes, I cheated my family and myself because I could never be who I wanted to be. I cheated my husband and kept us both in a relationship that should have ended years and years ago.

When it did end-- -I have never felt such freedom in my life.

LAUNDROMATTERS AND OTHER BUBBLES

When Lady Love and I were in Michigan we couldn't wash our clothes at home because the
the well water would turn everything orange! So I seemed to find myself sometime during the week sitting in the Laundromat waiting for clothes to either wash or dry. Now for the average person this waste of time---for me it is another essay in the making.

You can always tell us novice Laundromat folks. We never have the right change. (I nearly always have quarters when the machines take dimes and vice versa.) The true "Laundromatter" has bags of dimes and quarters and never has to run to the changer. Maybe this will come with experience--but I doubt it. I wonder if I get a kind of Las Vegas thrill out of those changers. I do lead kind of a sheltered life!!

Then there's my soap---- or rather where's my soap, my stain remover, and my softener? Oh well, just this once I'll buy it here. I discovered that a couple of this and that is something just short of the national debt. I have to leave that stuff in my car!

Then I always forget my clothes hangers and regular "laundromatters” look at me with pity as I try carefully to fold a shirt that would have really gone well on a hanger. Maybe I should leave extra hangers in my car, too.

Then intimidating "Laundromat" signs: DO NOT DYE IN THESE MACHINES!!!! Or DO NOT OVERLOAD!!! There are never enough chairs in these places and there are always big signs that say, DO NOT SIT ON FOLDING TABLES. Those signs are harder to read 'cause there is always someone sitting on them. Another sign says, "This dryer holds three washer loads of wash!" I never have but two, do you suppose there are laundry police that check on these things?

As I pondered these and other questions, I watched a very large man stuff a quantity of dirty coveralls in a machine. If he had thrown his leg over the side and tamped them in I wouldn't have been surprised. Even the laundry police wouldn't have argued with him!!!

Then a woman with enough clothes to fill a thrift shop came in. She made six trips in with her big loads. She stuffed 10 washers (there is no load limit sign and she seemed to feel comfortable that she was not breaking a laundry law.)

The "launder matter" attendant scrubbed the extra bubbles, soap and dirt off the machines.

I gave him my best cheery "Good Morning" and he came back with,” People are pigs!!" I went back and climbed up on a folding table and sat down. I did have ONE thought for him, though. Instead of grumbling, try putting a broom to the floor (the same orange peel has been there for two weeks.)

I didn't try to cheer him up---I guess I would be pretty disgusted too if I had printed all those great signs and no one read them.