Memories

Happier times...Joanne, holding her eldest, C; me, holding Joanne's middle daughter, R; Mum holding my 30th birthday cake; three year old Boy Oneder and our nephew, Anthony, in the background.

My beautiful sister...

Clothes

As a teenager, Joanne was ALLLL about name brands. For every one outfit Joanne would buy, I would buy three. I was never into brand names (and I am still not).

Her favourite brands back in the 80's were, in no particular order:

Laura Ashley
Esprit
Polo/Ralph Lauren (you know, the "alligator shirts")
Le Chateau

You get the point. She was no "Woolco" girl.

Because she had so few outfits, she would often run out of clean clothes. So, what did my darling sister do?...she raided MY cheapo closet.

It just so happened that one day, she scored LARGE in my closet. I had just boughe a beautiful pastel checked skirt with a matching blouse...shut up people, it was the 80's!! Anyway, it was no brand name number, but I really liked it and, by my standards, it wasn't cheap. I had honestly worn it ONE TIME.

I was at work. I had no idea that she was raiding my closet...until the next day.

For whatever reason, Joanne decided to wash my brand new outfit after she wore it. When I got home, I went looking for my new outfit because I was going out for dinner with some friends. It wasn't in my closet. I knew immediately that Joanne had taken it, so I called...err...maybe I screeched at the top of my lungs...her. She came upstairs all innocent-like and asked me what I wanted. I DEMANDED to know where my new outfit was.

"Oh...I needed something to wear yesterday, and I figured you wouldn't care, but I washed it already...it's in the dryer...I'll iron it for you."(sweet little innocent one)

I remember screaming some profanity at her and went to get the outfit myself.

Imagine my horror when I opened the dryer to find red streaks everywhere...all over the outfit, all over the dryer, all over everything.

Long story short...she accidentally left red lipstick in the pocket of my brand new skirt. The dryer melted it onto everything. The outfit was ruined. I was devastated.

I LOST IT.

Joanne said she would replace it (damned straight she would!!!) but when we went to the store that weekend, the outfit was gone. There was no replacement. She ended up paying me back for it, but I never let her live that down. I must admit, I think she felt really bad, but...until she got married and moved out, she continued to raid my closet (and Mom's too!) To this day, Mom and I have clothes that we never ever found.

Oh Joanne....LOL.

Middle names

Joanne and I were not given middle names. When I asked my Mum why, she really didn't know, just that they didn't give us one. This really bugged us, especially Joanne.

Throughout her childhood, Joanne gave herself several middle names. She would sign her name on paper using the name. Some examples were Amy, Kimberley and Laura. There were many more and I wish I could remember them, because some of them were really great. Sigh...

Joanne had such a vivid imagination. Many times, Mum would hear her locked in the bathroom, talking away happily to her imaginary friends, playing school or house. She would have full conversations with her friends. It was very cute.

I remember before she was even able to print, she would make scribbly lines and call it handwriting. She was so funny.

"Ticket Please!!"

When I was about 6 years old and Joanne was about 4, we lived in an apartment building. This was our apartment building...50 Carabob Court, Apt. 902...a corner unit. You can see it in the photo below...just count up nine floors from the left corner:

This was the floor plan...in case you were curious:Anyway...there was a playground downstairs. Joanne and I spent hours in that playground. Now mind you, playgrounds in the seventies were nothing like today. We had no sand, rubber or wood chips to cushion our fall from the iron/steel slides and monkey bars. Oh no my friends, we had CEMENT. There was also a crapload of lead in the paint they used to paint the equipment and there were sharp edges on all the slides. They were silver metal, so on sunny days, we got third degree burns going down those suckers and the merry-go-rounds were REAL merry-go-rounds where if you didn't puke after a ride, you were the BOMB!

One day, Joanne and I were playing with our friend, Margaret, who lived in the same building. Joanne, being the dominant one, was the ticket taker. You had to give her a ticket in order to go down the slide. On the third or fourth ride, Joanne decided that my ticket was not valid...who knows how her brain worked. I told her I wanted to go down the slide and she told me I couldn't because I didn't have a ticket. I tried to push past her and WHAMO! She pushed me off the top of the slide. I hit the pavement like a ton of bricks. I ended up witha sprained arm and two black eyes. Joanne and Margaret held their hands in an "X" and I sat on their arms as they ran into our building yelling, "EMERGENCY! EMERGENCY!" I can't remember what happened after that or whether Joanne got into trouble for that, but what a memory...I`ll never forget that!