A couple of people in our neighborhood have been trying to get a tan all summer. The woman who lives across the street loves to sunbathe. My granddaughter Shannon likes to go to the tanning salon. Strange isn't it? Whatever we have we don't want and what we don't have we want. All of my life I've had a dark complexion and I always wanted to be light skinned.

When I was a child I was so dark I got a reputation. When we lived in California my sister was talking about me and the woman who worked in the cafeteria asked, "Who's your sister?"

When Lois described me the woman remarked, "Oh, you mean that little dark girl?" My whole family thought that was funny. I didn't think that was a compliment. I didn't like being dark. All the storybooks described the heroines with large blue eyes and skin as white and as creamy as milk. My skin looked like nut-brown coffee.

I yearned to be like the beautiful girls in the fairy tales so I made up a tall story to my friend in third grade. I told her that I used to be blond and light skinned with blue eyes, but my skin and my eyes had turned dark. She obviously didn't believe me. I got insulted when she laughed.

I'll admit there is a big advantage to being dark skinned. I only sunburned once in my life. That was the summer my oldest daughter was a Brownie Scout and I went to day camp with her. The camp was at the Rocky Mountain Arsenal, east of Commerce City. It was hot and we were out in the open all week without a tree in sight. By the end of that camp, to my surprise my skin was red and sore. I discovered how much fun it is to itch and peel. All those years I had the mistaken belief that I was immune to sunburn because there was a summer when I was out in the sun every day and didn't burn. That was 50 years ago on the farm near Hedrick, Iowa when I was 17 and driving was still exciting.

My brother-in-law, Ray Carter had taught me to drive when I was 13 years old. It was before he and Lois got married. One day he asked me, "Would you like to learn how to drive?" Of course I wanted to learn how to drive. I was excited and jumped at the chance.

"Get in," he said and he told me what to do. Across the street from our house was a vacant lot. I got in the car, shifted gears like Ray told me and put my foot on the gas. Unfortunately I forgot about the round thing in front of me called a steering wheel. I pushed the pedal down (a little too much?) and the car shot straight across the street and into the field. Someone was yelling at me to take my foot off the gas. I was shrieking bloody murder when I finally lifted my foot and the car stopped.

Since I didn't run into anything, everyone but me thought it was funny, but Ray was cool as an ice cube. He got the car out of the field and showed me what I had done wrong, so I started over. That time I drove on the street and stayed out of the vacant lot.

That summer 50 years Ray asked me if I'd like to help him in the field by driving the tractor. I loved to drive and I was very pleased to do such an easy chore. It didn't seem much like work. I never got tired of driving that old John Deere. Of course in that day there were no cabs on the tractors and I enjoyed spending my days in the sunshine going around and around.

I didn't sunburn that summer so long ago but I did pay a price for my days in the open. By the time the work was over I was even darker than before. If that woman from my grade school in California had seen me then she would have asked, "Oh, you mean that girl who looks like burned toast?"