Beating the Lines, Or Not
By Margery McCurdy Plummer

I’m with Drew when he talks of helping keep the economy down. Maybe we’re not in the middle of a depression, but things look pretty grim at times. Many people thought that my family was well off, because we lived in a brick house, a sign of some security at that time. Actually, we did live in a brick house for which we paid twelve dollars a month. That arrangement made it possible to live almost free, while putting the meager income into the store I think other businesses operated in the same manner.

My father taught us in a way to be self sufficient and to feel that we were contributing to the family welfare.

My first paying job I had was picking strawberries, a job that I really enjoyed. Picking the luscious berries with some adults and younger children in the neighborhood.

We were paid nine cents a quart, if you can believe that, and twelve cents per quart for those that were capped, a harder job. I loved filling the four or six quart holders and taking them to the “crating” shed, which happened to be a barn nearby. The berries were cleaned and occasionally had bugs and tiny frogs removed from them that mischievous children had put there.

The joy of the job was “cash in” day at the end of the week. Each picker had a small card pinned to his shirt labeled “quart” “gallon” or the amount that had been picked for a day or more.

As I grew, I worked for a short time each summer, getting a bit more each summer, and in college I worked for a really short amount for not much money.

I’ve always been a home town shopper and never felt that larger was better in anybody’s store.

Don’t laugh. My only non paying job has been with the Browser and the Boss. That arrangement isn’t nearly as bad as it seems. We have a deal! I have the pleasure of writing some stuff, and if I should decide to take a cruise, which I won’t, or loaf around, Drew won’t have to dock my non pay, and I won’t have to beat any dead lines.