Humor Non-Fiction posted July 14, 2013 Chapters: 2 3 -4- 5... 


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Continuation of the adventures of newlyweds in late `50's

A chapter in the book Chasing the Elusive Dream

Learning Curves

by BethShelby

For those of you who have read my biography from the beginning, you may recognize some of this story which was written when Evan was still alive. For the later readers, you will learn a bit about how my story begins, told in a more humorous way.

By the second month into my marriage, I realized how ill equipped I was to deal with the chores expected of a wife. Luckily, my husband wasn't demanding and went peacefully along with the flow. I'd warned him beforehand I wasn't a homemaker, so he wasn't totally blindsided.

After the fiasco with Tupperware in a hot oven, I decided baking needed to be left to more skilled cooks. My stove took over for storage, which was in short supply. Trips to my parents' home netted us enough care packages to keep us in food for a while. One item from the latest visit was a freshly baked apple pie. I stuck it into the oven and promptly forgot about it.

My most embarrassing moment occurred two weeks later, when my in-laws came to visit. I assume they realized if they wanted to eat, they needed to bring the meal. Some of it required re-heating. This meant my oven had to revert to its original purpose. I opened the oven door and exclaimed, "Oh wow! You brought a pie. What kind is it?"
 
Evan's mom gave me a blank look and said, "We didn't bring a pie." Then she proceeded to pull from my oven the two-week-old pie, which was now topped with an inch-high growth of hairy gray mold. They were gracious, but I'm glad I never knew what their conversation was like on the way home.

I was thrilled that my husband had suggested I should finish college, but I knew he really couldn't afford the expense. It was important I finish as soon as possible, so I took all the hours allowed. My advisor thought 22 college hours was excessive, but he allowed me to give it a try. This way, it would only take two and a half more years. The cost was taking a toll on an already over-extended budget. My husband's job, as an architectural draftsman, paid double the minimum wage. Unfortunately in those days, minimum wage was only $1.00 an hour.

When he got out of service the year before, Evan put money down on a place his folks hoped to buy when they sold their other house. Since they hadn't made the sale, we were stuck making payments on a house and acreage in the country occupied by his parents. We still owed on my wedding ring, our car, and the silverware I'd purchased just before the wedding. Along with the expense of the apartment, gasoline, groceries, books and college, it was a gross understatement to say money was tight.

Summer was unbearable in an upstairs apartment in the Deep South. Our only purchase so far had been a small fan, but that offered little relief from the sweltering heat. After getting paid on Friday and making token payments on past due bills, Mondays usually found us broke again. Having established no credit, our resources were the pawnshops and loan companies. Many times, we pawned our watches in order to spend a couple of hours in an air-conditioned theater in order to escape the heat and drudgery of work and study. Not a wisest or moves, but for us, it seemed a lifesaver.

The GI bill offered a small supplement for continuing education. Evan had completed one year of college before service. He signed up for night school to add a bit to our income. Night school had a limited amount of class choices available. One semester, lack of choices led him to sign up for a Spanish class. He soon realized he had neither the time nor desire to learn a foreign language. I'd taken Latin but never Spanish. By doing his homework, I learned a bit of Spanish, and he earned a passing grade. Earned is probably not the correct word. He only mastered one Spanish phrase, "Habla usted espanol?"

About this time, my husband's company decided to relocate to a small town. He had the option of moving or going job hunting. Since I was in college, we perferred being in a place that offered a college degree. Evan put out some resumes for a job but with no results. He had a sister in New Orleans, so we thought that city might offer more job opportunities plus colleges. We drove the two hundred miles for a visit. It was the first real trip since our two-day honeymoon in Pensacola, Florida. While there, I checked out schools, while he combed the streets job hunting.

Our one bit of recreation while there was a visit to a large amusement park. A roller-coaster ride was a new experience for both of us. As the ride started, my spouse put a protective arm around my shoulder. The cars slowly escalated the to top of the steep incline. As it gathered speed going down, the locked bar holding us in moved a couple of inches and made a clanking noise. Apparently it was designed to do this, but Evan thought the bar had broken. His arm left my shoulder, and he grabbed the sides and yelled, "Hold on! This thing is coming apart." The rest of the ride was a wild nightmare. I stumbled off with weak knees, wet pants, and the conviction that when things go south, it's every man for himself. He's proven over the years that this isn't the case, but I never let him live that episode down.

On our trip home, we had two dimes left between us. We were both coffee addicts, and it was just enough, in those days, for a cup each. A Shell credit card paid for gasoline, but when we spotted a Super Market Grand Opening sign offering free food, we couldn't resist stopping. I hoped no one noticed us leaving with each of us munching a hot-dog and sipping a coke, but no groceries. At least, we didn't have to join a line at a food kitchen. 

Luckily, the trip did produce two job offers, both paying considerably more than his present job. One company had a branch in our city, so we didn't have to move after all. Now instead of an architectural draftsman, my husband became a draftsman for an oil company. Things were starting to look up. At least, we could pay off the loan companies and redeem our watches.



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Picture compliments of Google Image.
Please note: This isn't a story with a central theme, but more of a rambling essay of several events taking place during those early years of marriage.

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