Women in My Family
During the nineteen thirties when I was in high school， my
mother went back to college. She had an eight o clock class five
mornings a week at the Universit)， of Washington. So did my
brother， Watson. He drove to the university in his old 192\"5
Model T Ford roadster without a top. Since he had t，ery little
money for gas， he.figured out a route by which he could coast
almost all the way./i om our house on a steep hill to the Engin.
eering College on the lower campus about three miles away.
A lot depended on the trqffic lights. My mother rode with hiJ)l，
but her classes were in the art department on the upper eampus，
so she jumped out of the roadster . hen Watson crossed Univer-
sity Avenue and turned down toward Engineering. If the light
was green on the avenue， she had to make a quick exit so that
she would not break the roadster s nTomentum. Watson never
slowed down much for her. None o[ us did - my father， my
brother， or me. We expected her to kdep up andshe did. \"
More and more often we found Mother in the basement
sculpting instead of in the kitchen cooking. All q/\" us\" were
changing. Watson was home less. My interests ， ere shi~ting
from baseball and iee-skating to the school newspaper and
yearbook. My father did，tore of the grocery shopping and oJten
cooked our dinners. \"Your mother，\" he explained. \"is coming
into full bloom.\"
Mother s artistic talents I knew had been recognized when
she was a young woman. Her teacher encouraged her to go to
Berkeley to study at the University of Cal~brnia， a heady
profiteer， she said，.[br a country girl from Idaho. To earn the
money to go， she taught school /br several years in the little
towns of White Bird and Stvkes.
The hard work expected o/ her as the oldest girl between two
boys on her father s homestead did not enamor her of rural l~[~.
When she could be ，spared she worked for ，，ages， cooking and
~eashing dis hes at the few scattered ranches in the mountains
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