Birthdays are a time when kids can look up what was going on in the world when they first arrived in it or find out if anything of historic importance took place on the same date, albeit a different year. Some will fare better than others in this regard. No one famous was born on the same day as me, and other than Spain joining UNESCO, and the North American F-86 Sabre setting a world aircraft speed record, nothing too newsworthy transpired. And the only historic incident, of any real note was the Gettyburg Address (1863). My being female made it significant to our family however. In fact, as soon as I was born, the doctor hurried out to personally inform my father he finally had a girl. (This was back in the days of the Marcus Welby type of doctor who knew you, your family, where you lived, and, basically, everything about you and yours.) I think poor Dad was expecting lace and tea parties, but with my older siblings being boys, and most of the cousins my age being boys, and most of the neighbourhood kids my age being boys, that wasn’t what he got. I loathed frocks and skirts so much that getting me into them past the age of four took some doing. And while I did hold tea parties, my real playtime passions were cowboys & Indians, knights & castles, and the exploration of alien worlds. Oh, well. He loved me anyway.
