Afterthoughts

Vesta Marie Appling-eighty five years old Vesta in her twenties      Ever since 1914 children from all over West Texas looked forward to the Panhandle South Plains Fair.  In the late forties, my sister, brother, and I could barely wait to go from Tahoka, Texas to Lubbock, Texas for our day of fun at the fair.        When the day finally arrived, Granddad and Grandma stopped by our house to take us.  Since we had not eaten, Grandma, being of a helpful nature, put an apron on and proceeded to fix our breakfast.  She looked grand in her Sunday best with a pillbox hat on her head.  The hat had a veil on top.  ( In the forties most women dressed up no matter where they went.)  Moments after she started to fry our eggs, the flame on the gas stove flared.  Her hat veil caught fire.  She slapped at her back trying to put the flames out.  The three of us jumped up from the table and  hollered, "Grandma's on fire.  Grandma's on fire." When mother heard us, she ran into the room