I listened to reason. Sort of.
A few posts ago I published my revised bio for grown-ups. (I once had a girlfriend who informed me that
I would never be a grown-up because real grown-ups referred to themselves as
adults. Well, there you have it.)
Anyway, what I was supposed to be writing was
a longer, more complete bio than the one on the back of the book, one that
could be handed out by teachers as part of a downloadable package. (Assuming, of course, that there were teachers who wanted to use the book
in their classroom.)
So I did-
Hi.
My name is Margo and I was born in a small town in East
Tennessee. When I was growing up I loved
animals and we always had dogs and cats in the house. I even had a horse named Lady who lived on a
farm about a half-mile away and I would walk over there and catch her in the
field by rattling a can of dried corn.
Then I would put a halter on her and walk her over to the barn and
saddle her so I could ride her.
She was so big I had to climb up on the fence rail to put
the saddle on her and her back was so wide my legs stuck out almost straight.
When I was thirteen I started to work in my aunt’s pet
shop. I trained a monkey to walk on a
halter and wear diapers. Monkeys don’t care where they poop so you
can’t house train them, but they won’t poop in their diapers. I used to take the monkey to schools where
she would sit on my shoulder and I would talk to the kids about animals.
Once I brought the monkey home but my mother wouldn’t let it in the house. She said she had to draw the line somewhere.
(this is a lot like the line she
drew)
After high school and college I worked at a lot of
jobs. For a while I designed lights in
the theater.
That was fun. I traveled around the country for years.
Then I moved to an island and learned how to
cook. I lived on the island for fifteen
years and ran and inn and restaurant with my sister. That’s where I got the inspiration for
Jessie’s island. I started out with the
real island
but it wasn’t big enough so I had to add cliffs on one end
and a lighthouse on the other, and make it wider and put more roads in. Then of course it wasn’t the same island
anymore so I had to come up with a new name.
There isn’t any real Bayberry island but there’s this island that looks
a lot like it and that’s where l lived.
The End