Just because I didn’t want to be spied upon, didn’t mean I wanted spies to not want to spy upon me. The spies just had to be cute and not be my brother or cousin.
When Dad and Uncle Edward tore down an old farm house to make way for our new home, they bulldozed the boards into several huge piles on the far side of a cow pasture. Spring came and melted the snow, exposing prime clubhouse material.
Our future clubhouse location was atop a ridge, with a view of our house in the back, an excellent sledding hill in the front, and two cow ponds nearby. The vicinity was surrounded by cows, cow pies, and woodchuck holes.
The boards came supplied with rusty nails. David and I semi-straightened the nails with a flat rock and a hammer confiscated from Dad. I did most of the straightening and David did most of the construction. Several days of hard work produced two-sides of a haphazard frame.
A strong wind blew it down while we were at school. It’s also possible that a few cows hastened the destruction by pushing against the walls to scratch their backs.
Gary and Eddie (Deedee and Corky’s older brothers) were called upon to help Dad, David, and me with the rebuilding. After two days, our finished cabin had a doorway (no door), a window opening, a workbench, and best of all a stage. The workbench was David’s idea, the stage mine. A ladder inside let us climb through a hole in the ceiling and sit on the roof.
Gary and Eddie left, and Corky came the following weekend to help put finishing touches on our domain. Annie also spent the weekend, but wasn’t much of a carpenter.
I brought my dress-up clothes from the house for stage productions. Annie and I made the boys stay outside while we pulled the stage curtain shut and changed into Mom’s old gowns. After Annie and Corky went home, David let it slip that Corky and he peeked through the knotholes and cracks while Annie and I changed. I was horrified.
“Don’t worry,” he informed me. “You’re my sister, so I certainly wasn’t looking at you. And neither was Corky. You don’t have anything anyone would ever want to see anyway.”
Annie was the object of their spying because she wore a training bra. So did I, but mine was unnecessary and lay flat against my chest.
The news of my undesirability did not bring me pleasure. I never resorted to stuffing my bra, but I did occasionally store an extra tissue on each side purely due to a lack of room in my pocketbook.
Lesson learned: Hang a sheet over any open cracks before changing. And I’m talking about cracks between wall boards.
Now it’s your turn: Were you ever a spy or did you get spied upon?
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