Yes I am. My name is Barbara Philleo and I've lived a very interesting life in an abstract sort of way. I've narrowed my life into four parts: 1. growing up in New Jersey until age nine 2. growing up in Wisconsin until graduation from high school 3. moving to Milwaukee where I met and married and eventually had five children, and 4. becoming a newspaper reporter and eventually a published author of books for 'tweens and teens.
That may not seem so remarkable in itself except that it represents a roller coaster ride which, like the real thing, is exciting and sometimes dizzying and uncomfortable. But, as in all contrasts that life provides, there is an opportunity to appreciate both. For example, I think of the absolute discomfort of childbirth, but without it would we appreciate the end result quite as much? A brand new baby can erase the suffering practically from the start.
So, let me briefly go into those four parts of my life. My life in New Jersey was rather idyllic by my recollection. It was the '50s and my childhood was embellished by good friends and relatives, a good neighborhood, good parents and a good school. On warm summer evenings, kids of all ages gathered at my friend's huge yard to play the popular yard games - Captain May I?, Red Light Green Light, Statue, Kick the Can, and just plain old tag. We'd stay out till dark forced us back to our respective homes. My parents who met in the military - he was a P38 fighter pilot and she was in WASP (Women Airforce Service Pilots) - built their own modest home that was missing only the white picket fence. But in 1957, everything changed. It was the year we moved to a rural area seven miles out of a little town in Wisconsin. Talk about culture shock!
I remember seeing for the first time the neighbor girl (who later became my best friend) walking down the road in front of our house with her older cousin. My future friend said, "Hi, who are you?" When I greeted her back she said, "You talk funny." So I, in kind, replied, "So do you." I don't know if that's how friendships start but it's how ours did. As time went on she kind of guided me along my journey of Rural Life 101, having me join 4-H and enter baked goods at the County Fair as she had. One time I went to the cow barn where she was helping her dad with milking and I prematurely let a cow out of its stanchion. She told her father that she was the one who'd done it, although I'm sure he knew better. What a friend!
After high school I worked at a printing company that published a weekly shoppers guide, basically a tabloid filled with ads. I was a keyline paste-up artist. Some of you younger readers might not be familiar with the position. Just think text "chips" of paper that are waxed on the backside and stuck to pages of paper prepared to be photographed. My next job (because the previous one had cut my hours in summer) was a position with the local newspaper as a society editor. That position ended when the paper sold out to a larger one that had its own society editor.
My "third life" involved moving to Milwaukee with an older couple who lived down there. They had bought a farm down the road from my parents and were anxious to transform it into their own version of paradise. The husband was nearing retirement so they had secured the farm in advance and came up from the city whenever they could to work on the place. When they met me, they sort of "adopted" me since they had no kids of their own and figured I'd fit right into their family. So down to Milwaukee I went and got a job working for a newspaper there. On weekends when my "adoptive family" came up, they'd drop me off at my parents' about a quarter mile away, then take me back with them on Sunday afternoon.
During the time I lived in Milwaukee, I met my husband. I thought he was the nicest guy I'd ever met. We played tennis, toured the Mitchell Park Domes and went on picnics and other outings. We married about seven months later and began our adventure together. Those years were enjoyable. He worked for the State and I got to stay at home with our little ones.
They say all good things come to an end and so it was with my husband and me after 28 years. There were complicating factors, not the usual ones. Part Four was the resumption of my career, this time as a reporter for a local paper. Of course by then, all the kids were off on their own except my youngest son who lived with me.
Before the turn of the century, I was using a typewriter to submit assignments. Okay, now that you've stopped laughing, read on. Yes, I graduated to a computer and was the most computer illiterate person on the block (I worked from home). I constantly sought advice from my youngest son when I got into a bind. I remember working on deadline and "fighting" over the dial-up; he usually won. Eventually, I bought a new desktop and sort of learned how to use it for my purposes. One time he got a bit impatient and told me, "Look Mom, there's not much you can wreck on that computer. So the next time you can't quite figure out what to do, just experiment a little. Chances are, you'll solve the problem." I followed his advice. He was right and it worked out okay. Still does.
What lies ahead is anybody's guess. I have ideas for new books, but I must first finish what I've started. A dream of mine is to complete a book about my parents; how they met and married during the war years. For some, it was a horrible time in the annals of history, but for many others it was a briefly romantic era; a time when marriages were forged in a sliver of time before going overseas came between a couple. Many of those marriages, although sown in haste, lasted until "death do us part". Such was the case with my parents.
I have done some freelance work but, unfortunately, the popularity of the printed word and hands-on reading material has diminished. But, if offered to chance to do so, I wouldn't turn down work of that type on an occasional basis. In the meantime, I have plenty to write and Steemit is one of those available avenues for it. Glad to be here, fellow Steemians!
