…Harriett revels in her childhood friendships and activities but she also learns to cry and cuss, like when she has a scrap with a school chum, is angry with Berton, or is in fear of growing up. Attending a one room schoolhouse with twenty-nine children, who remain friends throughout her life, enhances Harriett’s ability to develop a sense of belonging, self-reliance, humor and kindness.

Many ways to order:

Amazon: Paperback 6×9″ $15.99
Amazon: Kindle version $2.99

For a signed copy: send request and $19.00 per book (includes taxes and shipping) to:
Jerol Anderson
PO Box 339
Cambridge, WI 53523
Questions on ordering?  Please contact me at: jerol.writer@gmail.com

OVERALLS, PINAFORES, AND PIGTRAILS
Now available locally at these fine stores:

WI – Cambridge – Village Pharmacy & Gifts 109 W. Main St.
WI – Fort Atkinson – Hometown Pharmacy, 102 S. Main St.
WI – Fort Atkinson/Busseyville – Burdick’s Greenhouse, W9076 State Rd 106
WI – Janesville –  Book World of Janesville  2451 Milton Ave.
WI – Lake Mills – The Vintage Flip, 400 N. Main St.
WI – Watertown –    Literatus & Co. 401 E. Main St.
WI – Waukesha – Martha Merrell’s Books,  231 W Main St.
MI – Traverse City – Horizon Books 243 E. Front St.
MI – Petoskey – Horizon Books 319 E. Mitchell St.
IN – Lafayette – Second Flight Books, 2200 Elmwood Ave D7

EXCERPT:

“Burrr, cold out there,” I whispered.

I turned and stepped back inside the screened porch, letting the door close behind me. Reaching for my blue sweater that hung just around the corner, I pulled on the sleeve until it fell off the high hook. With the sweater in my left hand, I reached up with both hands to again turn the knob on the door.

At six years old, it took two hands to turn the knob, but like everything else, I’d found a clever way to maneuver through the high-up world around me without asking for help. I leaned lightly against the door and as it opened, I grabbed the outside edge and held on tight as I stepped down the two cement steps to the sidewalk.

Both feet firmly on the ground I slid the sleeve over my right hand and up my arm, covering my flannel shirt sleeve. Then reaching behind, I groped for the left sleeve.

“C’mon, c’mon gotta go,” I whispered, stomping my feet.

I found it, and put my arm in. Tugging the cuff of each flannel sleeve down with my fingers, I shrugged into the shoulders of the sweater. Then I buttoned just one button in the front. Not worrying that it didn’t match the buttonhole on the other side, I jumped from the landing onto the grass.

Drawn to the family gathering across the yard by the barn, I ran through the dew-laden grass. I could see Pa laying planks across the eight or nine-inch-high wooden frames. It was tobacco planting time on our farm and Berton, my twelve-year-old brother, and Ma were already working. Harold, my older brother, was twenty-two and, though he still lived with us, he didn’t do much on the farm any more. He was away at his job all day and I only saw him at suppertime and after supper he went out with his friends. Berton was Pa’s helper all the time, and he and Pa had already finished the milking of our nine cows before breakfast……….