My husband found a job on the other side of the county. The long drive was too expensive and time consuming to continue. We found a piece of land near where he worked. With money in short supply, we built our new home on the buy-and-build-as-you-go plan. We first lived in a borrowed house trailer, then in the bare studded house, as we worked on various projects. With no credit history, we didn't even try to secure a mortgage.

I knew no one in the area. My husband had co-workers to talk with. I had no one. He slept most of the day during the week and worked all night. We are not church-going people at the time. With only one car and no baby-sitting help, I couldn't take a job. I was stuck at home. We didn't even have a telephone. There was only my toddler son and the dog to talk to. I needed more.

It is terrible to be lonely. It is hard to find the way out of your doldrums all by yourself. Then came the happy day the Avon Lady came to call. Her sunny smile and cheery chatter about the neighborhood brightened my small world. Through her, I became familiar with area landmarks and where to shop and other stuff like that.

I didn't order something every time she stopped by. Her stopping was the fun part. I did order hand cream and such. She would have to return another time to deliver my order. She was generous in giving me samples, too. I still have a few tiny lipsticks in a drawer somewhere.

Her husband Fred was a hoot. They were originally from Maryland. I enjoyed hearing Lou tell stories about working in a shirt factory and the escapades of their early years. Unlike Lou, Fred wasn't much of a story-teller. I only remember one. He swore it was true.

They lived in an old house trailer at a nearby lake. Fred told about a neighbor with too much time on his hands. It seemed that he somehow learned how to cross-breed rabbits and cats. I know, but Fred swore the story was true. I never saw an example of the process myself, but Fred said it was a little unnerving to see a rabbit walk by, followed a while later by a kitty-cat hopping down the bunny trail. That was his only story.

It was sixty years ago. I still miss Lou. She was a pretty bit-on-the-generously buxom side blonde. A real blonde. She always smelled so nice. Even after she left, her fragrance lingered on. Did you know someone like that? Someone who brightened your day way back when? Cherish the memory.