When I look back on my childhood I wondered what events molded me into what I am today and why. I can remember tales of mischief told to me by my grandmother, MaPa, Shep (A very dear friend of the Livingston family who moved with us to SC many years ago.), Aunt Alta, Cousin Gay, Unk, Dad, Mom and Aunt Emmy. Some of those memories I vaguely remembered doing, some I don’t. Some memories I remembered in a different perspective than their version. This is part one of a three part series that I will present periodically throughout my blog.
Shep loved to tell me the story of my diaper years when he helped Mom clean-up the most ungodly scent and mess he had ever witnessed. He said what made the reeking event even worse was my mischievous face. He swears that I knew exactly what I had done by the spark in my eyes and the cocky smile that was displayed on my very smelly, dirty face. He said that when they entered the room, I was standing in my crib smearing brownish/green mucky “number 2” in an artful manner all over the wall. It was literally in slow motion; the way I looked at Mom and him, dug into my diaper, came up with a handful... I smiled, 
looked them in the eye, threw it on the wall, and started squiggling “dunk” everywhere . He said the worst part was Mom yelling for Ted, my Dad, who entered and after seeing the mess started laughing which in turn started Shep laughing too. Shep indicated that Mom was livid at the two of them for she knew I would get sick or poisoned by the gunk that was hanging from my mouth, face, and body. They were, also, encouraging “said” behavior by their laughter. Needless to say, it took the three of them hours to clean-up. I joyously giggled and played without a care in the world while they grumbled and gagged. Maybe Mom was right, this possibly may have been the beginning of my shenanigans that tempered the Livingston family of my presence.
While Earl Sheppard is on my mind; he, Dad and Mom would drink "highballs" while listening to all types of music from opera,
operettas, to classical music. On occasion, they would take Peggy and me to Charleston and Columbia to hear, as well as see the performance of many of these operas. I thank my parents and Shep many times for instilling in me a love for ALL types of music. I bless Shep for getting me through the 1st grade that I failed due to persistent discipline problems with the Nuns. “When I was in the 1st grade I went to the Catholic school in Fredricksburg, Va. The nuns used to send notes home to my parents that I was NOT supposed to wear pants to school. I would hide these notes. I left home in a skirt and changed on the bus to pants that was hidden in my satchel. One day a particularly mean Nun, that I did not like, grabbed me real hard; and she demanded that I change my attire. I broke loose and started running from her. I looked ahead and saw this huge mud puddle. When I got to it, I stopped in the middle of it and started laughing. I quickly dodged as she grabbed for me. She slipped, and fell face first into the puddle. I was looking at this very muddy-faced Nun with her long black habit dripping in gunk. You can imagine my surprise and delight; and I doubled over laughing. Needless to say, when my parents found out about what I had done, they were furious. I got double punishment, a spanking and “sent to bed.” That was one of those times being sent to bed did not bother me. I laid in my bed and smiled as I relived that entertaining moment in time. Every day after this my satchel was checked. Thank goodness after the 2ND year, we moved to SC." I have to admit, I also failed because of my lack of patience with the learning process. Shep had to tutor me the whole summer so I could move with my class to the 2ND grade. Between Daddy, Mom, and Shep, I not only learned to enjoy reading; I also learned to appreciate all types of subject matter and reading material. Until I got my Kindle, I was NEVER without a book in my purse/pocketbook. I never got bored if stranded for I had my book for entertainment. I am a lucky person in that I can read while riding in a moving vehicle.
MaPa was always telling me the story of her placing me in the “NO” Chair.” Evidently, spanking did not seem to bother me so Mom and Dad came up with the idea of defining a particular chair that I had to sit in without moving for certain
periods of time depending on my offense. MaPa unknowingly placed me in this chair to change my clothes and all “hell” broke loose for I started hollering and yelling MaPa “I good, I good” over and over again; and banging my hands and head against the chair rattling it back and forth. Dad and 
Mom had a terrible time trying to explain to me that my MaPa did not know it was the “bad” chair. Ma Pa used to say that my temper tantrums were so bad that I would start biting the side of my hand in anger. For years into my adulthood I would bite the side of my hand to keep from losing my cool. I guess by punishing myself I managed to calm down.
The worse thing my Mom and Dad could do to me, discipline wise, was to limit my activities by sending me to bed, denying me the use of my bike, not hanging out on my swing, etc. There is no one on this earth I adored more than my Aunt Janet. I named my daughter after her. "She had this parakeet named Whiskers, I think. My Mom would dread when a customer came into our motel office if Aunt Janet's room door was open. Whiskers would bellow out “King Cotton, no damn good!” The bird was most realistic sounding and had a
very good vocabulary." Anyway, Aunt Janet liked to remind me of my bike that Dad would hang up a tree outside her bedroom window. It tickled her that she was the first one to know whether I got to ride my bike on a given week. He used a pulley rope to move my bike into an upward position in the tree when my grades or behavior were not the best; and he would return it to the ground as a reward for improvement. Again limiting my favorite thing to do, riding my bike. I am NOT complaining for these were inventive ways of managing their very stubborn daughter who was NOT particularly crazy about school. These methods I would have used on my own kids, but I was fortunate NOT to have too many discipline problems with my son or my daughter. Maybe, biting my hand scared them "shitless". Yep, I am laughing at myself…sorry!
looked them in the eye, threw it on the wall, and started squiggling “dunk” everywhere . He said the worst part was Mom yelling for Ted, my Dad, who entered and after seeing the mess started laughing which in turn started Shep laughing too. Shep indicated that Mom was livid at the two of them for she knew I would get sick or poisoned by the gunk that was hanging from my mouth, face, and body. They were, also, encouraging “said” behavior by their laughter. Needless to say, it took the three of them hours to clean-up. I joyously giggled and played without a care in the world while they grumbled and gagged. Maybe Mom was right, this possibly may have been the beginning of my shenanigans that tempered the Livingston family of my presence. While Earl Sheppard is on my mind; he, Dad and Mom would drink "highballs" while listening to all types of music from opera,
operettas, to classical music. On occasion, they would take Peggy and me to Charleston and Columbia to hear, as well as see the performance of many of these operas. I thank my parents and Shep many times for instilling in me a love for ALL types of music. I bless Shep for getting me through the 1st grade that I failed due to persistent discipline problems with the Nuns. “When I was in the 1st grade I went to the Catholic school in Fredricksburg, Va. The nuns used to send notes home to my parents that I was NOT supposed to wear pants to school. I would hide these notes. I left home in a skirt and changed on the bus to pants that was hidden in my satchel. One day a particularly mean Nun, that I did not like, grabbed me real hard; and she demanded that I change my attire. I broke loose and started running from her. I looked ahead and saw this huge mud puddle. When I got to it, I stopped in the middle of it and started laughing. I quickly dodged as she grabbed for me. She slipped, and fell face first into the puddle. I was looking at this very muddy-faced Nun with her long black habit dripping in gunk. You can imagine my surprise and delight; and I doubled over laughing. Needless to say, when my parents found out about what I had done, they were furious. I got double punishment, a spanking and “sent to bed.” That was one of those times being sent to bed did not bother me. I laid in my bed and smiled as I relived that entertaining moment in time. Every day after this my satchel was checked. Thank goodness after the 2ND year, we moved to SC." I have to admit, I also failed because of my lack of patience with the learning process. Shep had to tutor me the whole summer so I could move with my class to the 2ND grade. Between Daddy, Mom, and Shep, I not only learned to enjoy reading; I also learned to appreciate all types of subject matter and reading material. Until I got my Kindle, I was NEVER without a book in my purse/pocketbook. I never got bored if stranded for I had my book for entertainment. I am a lucky person in that I can read while riding in a moving vehicle.
MaPa was always telling me the story of her placing me in the “NO” Chair.” Evidently, spanking did not seem to bother me so Mom and Dad came up with the idea of defining a particular chair that I had to sit in without moving for certain
periods of time depending on my offense. MaPa unknowingly placed me in this chair to change my clothes and all “hell” broke loose for I started hollering and yelling MaPa “I good, I good” over and over again; and banging my hands and head against the chair rattling it back and forth. Dad and 
Mom had a terrible time trying to explain to me that my MaPa did not know it was the “bad” chair. Ma Pa used to say that my temper tantrums were so bad that I would start biting the side of my hand in anger. For years into my adulthood I would bite the side of my hand to keep from losing my cool. I guess by punishing myself I managed to calm down.
The worse thing my Mom and Dad could do to me, discipline wise, was to limit my activities by sending me to bed, denying me the use of my bike, not hanging out on my swing, etc. There is no one on this earth I adored more than my Aunt Janet. I named my daughter after her. "She had this parakeet named Whiskers, I think. My Mom would dread when a customer came into our motel office if Aunt Janet's room door was open. Whiskers would bellow out “King Cotton, no damn good!” The bird was most realistic sounding and had a
very good vocabulary." Anyway, Aunt Janet liked to remind me of my bike that Dad would hang up a tree outside her bedroom window. It tickled her that she was the first one to know whether I got to ride my bike on a given week. He used a pulley rope to move my bike into an upward position in the tree when my grades or behavior were not the best; and he would return it to the ground as a reward for improvement. Again limiting my favorite thing to do, riding my bike. I am NOT complaining for these were inventive ways of managing their very stubborn daughter who was NOT particularly crazy about school. These methods I would have used on my own kids, but I was fortunate NOT to have too many discipline problems with my son or my daughter. Maybe, biting my hand scared them "shitless". Yep, I am laughing at myself…sorry!
I could not wait for Aunt Emmie to come visit. (Aunt Em was Theodore Burroughs Livingston's, my grandfather, sister. Aunt Em had a fixation when it came to our Chinese Chest that was in our living room at the King Cotton Motel. She would spend hours searching in every conceivable place for the secret drawer that she knew lay hidden in its structure. Although quite elderly, you never knew when she would be lying on the floor under or behind that chest pushing, pulling. or gliding her finger across the chest looking in frustration for the secret compartment that she knew held a treasure. (All four of the Livingston Sisters would look, but we n
ever found that drawer. I have always wondered, and keep forgetting to ask Gay, if she and her family ever take the time to look. (Maybe we should have taken all the drawers out and look behind them.)
Also, I was the lucky one, if they needed a fourth at Bridge, Hearts and Canasta. Aunt Em would come from St. Augustine with Aunt Alta, Aunt Gertrude and Unk, or Cousin Gay. Not only was I the oldest, but I loved playing cards with them. Not to brag, but I was also very good at cards and caught on quickly. For some reason when I sat down to play cards I clammed up, kept a straight face, and focused on the game; three traits that I normally do not possess. It bugs me to this day when too much talking occurs while we play games or cards. My big problem was I did not like to lose. My Mom did not play Canasta and Bridge; therefore, she would get real upset when I showed signs of impatience or made “sour or negative” comments between game sets, etc. Dad would shake his head with his finger to his lips for silence, and informed me that it was just a game. He would remind “Margaret” that she was not playing and he would handle it. He would proceed to shake his head in a negative manner, again, and l would lip read; “Now Sue, please behave yourself.” My aunts would smirk and Mom would throw up her hands in frustration. I hate to say this yawl, but I learned from the best.
Thus, I have come to the end of my 1st Edition to the Molding of Sue. I will simply say some learn, while others do not, from events that took place in the past.
ever found that drawer. I have always wondered, and keep forgetting to ask Gay, if she and her family ever take the time to look. (Maybe we should have taken all the drawers out and look behind them.)Also, I was the lucky one, if they needed a fourth at Bridge, Hearts and Canasta. Aunt Em would come from St. Augustine with Aunt Alta, Aunt Gertrude and Unk, or Cousin Gay. Not only was I the oldest, but I loved playing cards with them. Not to brag, but I was also very good at cards and caught on quickly. For some reason when I sat down to play cards I clammed up, kept a straight face, and focused on the game; three traits that I normally do not possess. It bugs me to this day when too much talking occurs while we play games or cards. My big problem was I did not like to lose. My Mom did not play Canasta and Bridge; therefore, she would get real upset when I showed signs of impatience or made “sour or negative” comments between game sets, etc. Dad would shake his head with his finger to his lips for silence, and informed me that it was just a game. He would remind “Margaret” that she was not playing and he would handle it. He would proceed to shake his head in a negative manner, again, and l would lip read; “Now Sue, please behave yourself.” My aunts would smirk and Mom would throw up her hands in frustration. I hate to say this yawl, but I learned from the best.
Thus, I have come to the end of my 1st Edition to the Molding of Sue. I will simply say some learn, while others do not, from events that took place in the past.
