Stories of my childhood, as I remember…..

I want to say that I chose the name, Sign Painters Daughter, but the truth is it chose me, a long time ago, I just didn’t know it then. I’ve been writing for a long time and have stacks of journals to prove it. However, those books are kept stored away for my eyes only.  Someday I hope to pull them all together and write a memoir, or reasonable facsimile, but for now I just want to focus on my childhood.

Growing up in my era, in itself, is incomprehensible to anyone under 45 today. To be in that era, in my house, was even stranger still, to most. These stories are for my kids and grandkids, to know what a simpler, slower life was like, as well as to get a glimpse of “Noni” as a child. They are for my siblings, to remember with me, and to stir up memories of their own, and for anyone else, young or old, who enjoy a good story of times gone by, innocence long gone, and the freedom of the road long past.

Dad….the artist.

Dad was an artist in his soul, but to feed his family, by trade, he was a sign painter. This was a time when signs were actually painted, either by hand or manufacturer. None of those pesky silk-screened wrap-around sheets, electronic billboards, or computer generated plastic pre-forms.

At the time of my birth, Dad was an architect with Phillips. But like most artists, he was a free spirit and clocking in and out, working all day to put money in another man’s pocket, gnawed at his psyche, so he decided one day to walk away from it all and become a sign painter. I can’t imagine mom’s thoughts on that, since she had three little mouths to feed, but she loved Dad, and had faith in him and God, so off they went into the next stage of life, the only one I ever knew, never looking back.

These stories will no doubt enlighten some friends and family as to the person I am today. I’m sure there will be moments when you mumble to yourself, “well, that explains that”.  If so, great! An added bonus.

It is most important to me that anyone reading this understands that I, personally, loved our “gypsy” way of life and never intend for this writing to be anything less than a loving, laughing and appreciative memoir of my life growing up as The Sign Painter’s Daughter.

Come along with me……