Ear worms. They are the most irritating thing that goes on in my little brain. From this letter, it’s clear that my grandmother hated them, too. When my mother’s friend planted this ear worm it caused a fuss. What makes me chuckle at this story is that Grandma could plant ear worms with the best of them. Every now and then she’d break into song for a moment. The one that hangs with me so many years after she left us is a familiar novelty tune.
Mairzy doats and dozy doats and liddle lamzy divey A kiddley divey too, Wooden shoe!"
I wasn’t known for musical talent, so had some trouble figuring out what she was singing about. Years later I’d learn the English words to the song. With luck neither of these irritating songs will stick to your brain after reading this post.
When Esther was going to school in Fargo at the business college she stayed with Gladys Johnson who had a daughter Joan about my age.
I went and visited Esther and Joan + I became friends. She came out to the farm a couple times to stay with me a few days. We had lots of fun riding the horse + going on picnics and of course talking about boys. One time she repeated the little poem:Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bear Fuzzy Wuzzy had no hair Fuzzy Wuzzy wasn't very fuzzy, was he?
so many times Mama could’ve killed her.
I remember one time in Fargo we went riding with some boys + one of them corresponded with me for a year or so afterwards. Now I don’t even remember his name … must not have been a very important romance.
Enough nonsense for now. More next time.