Finding My Long-Lost High School Senior Annual with Janice, Lori, Beth, Linda Lou and Others

The past couple days I have been puzzled trying to remember how it was I had a photo from my high school senior annual, among the thousands of photos I have saved. 

Puzzled because I remember throwing my annuals away, years ago, and I had no memory of extracting photos from annuals before discarding them.

Then it occurred to me that maybe I somehow had blogged photos from annuals before I threw them away. Because I remembered a photo of myself depositing Janice Jackson into a garbage can. But, I could not find that photo on my computer.

So, I clicked on my Durango Texas blog and entered "Janice" into the search function. And this quickly came up with...

Finding My Long Lost High School Senior Annual With Linda Lou & Others

And thus the photo mystery is solved. That blog post has the photo of me placing Janice in a garbage can, and other photos that I sort of remember.

Janice Jackson Thinks I Have Way Too Much Thyme On My Hands

A few minutes ago I saw on Facebook, via the Fort Worth Connie D, that which you see here.

Seeing this brought back a long repressed memory of a long repressed trauma.

Decades ago, in high school, my most sophisticated friend was a young lady named Janice, Janice Jackson to be exact. No relation to Janet or Michael.

Janice was so sophisticated because her mom and dad were so sophisticated.

When I was either a Junior or Senior, I don't remember which, Janice invited me over for dinner with her mom and dad.

I do not remember what was on the menu, except for the fact it was very sophisticated, likely with a European flair. What I do remember is wine came with the dinner, due to that European flair thing.

I felt so naughty, years away from being of a legal age to consume an alcoholic beverage. I'd never tasted wine prior to that day, other than my mom and dad's backyard blackberry brew. And I don't think that brew qualified as legit wine.

I don't remember how many glasses of wine I had during that sophisticated Jackson dinner. What I do remember is that when it was time to leave Janice, while walking me to my car, suddenly let out a loud shriek, shrieking "DON'T STEP ON THE THYME.."

I was totally startled. Don't step on time? I had no idea what this meant. Are we drunk on wine I remember wondering? I stood frozen, afraid to take another step.

Eventually Janice explained that I was stepping on the plant that grew between the stepping stones, an herb called thyme which sophisticated people grow and use to make that which they cook taste good.

And so today, seeing Connie's D's "I have way too much Thyme on my hands" message, it caused me a minor bout of post traumatic stress syndrome. I have since recovered....