Did I mention it was hot?
It was hot, good people.
And granted, the house was built, in the correct manner of the creole cottage--two shotgunned bedrooms then the bath, leading to the kitchen, and as a nod to modern times, the L was the living room area, off to the side. It had the distinction tho, of no cross-ventilation--there were no window on the right side of the house--because, "Bob" explained, there was a pig farm there before industry moved in, and he spared himself the stench. So? no windows on the right side of the house.
So Duncan, yer right. Three bored women and it was HOT...but very seldom boring.
When the sun would start to go down, we could hear the caliope played on the riverboat--we were located in the armpit of the River there--then, we would get our shtuff together.
We had a plastic kiddie pool, a "snap-together" I think it was called. It was the kind you just flopped on the ground and let the water give it the shape.
We put this in the center of our yard. (A small piece of green we attribute to twist #2, as she was the one who watered gravel patiently until grass grew where angels feared to tread)
There we had our bath.
We would hook the hose up to the hot water from the laundry shed and add bath oils, bubbles, and more than a few mishapped drinks. The cowboys were as fascinated with us as we had been by them.
"The hottest tub in town," one said.
We smiled at cowboy wit.
walk on, high plains drifter
But to give ya'll an idea of how the family dynamic worked, I'll tell ya this story.
It was the twisted sisters, sitting in a kiddie pool located in the "yard" of a house located in the parking lot of a country and western bar in an all black neighborhood.
Completely illuminated by a big ole damned LIGHT.
It came with the parking lot.
It's Saturday night, and cowboys are doing their parking thang all around us, while we pretty much luxuriated, as much as three very hot women, grin, CAN luxuriate in the yard of a house located in the parking lot of a country & western bar in an all black neighborhood. (Did I stress that enough?)
So twisted number two, (the one some of ya'll know from another site) notices the sad deterioration of twisted number one (there was alot of vodka in the sudsy mix of the bath by now) and says brightly,
"I know! Let's all stick our heads under water and blow more bubbles!"
"Okay" I agreed agreeably.
Twisted number one was all too eager.
"I'll count to three and we'll do it!"
Okay. Twisted number two said with drama:
We laughed our bubbles off as twisted number one ducked her poor naive head under, and we clicked our glasses as we waited for her to surface.
Which she did, looking at us accusingly, noting our dry hairdo's and lack of mascara smears, saying suspiciously, "Hey......???"
Sigh. We were mean to her, I do confess.
But she is the oldest and we've got some sort of teamwork family dynamic revenge going on that we still can't help to this day.