Before there were security guards

Lake Dufault Mines, when I was growing up, in the very early sixties, represent the best times of my life. Once, when we were contagious with the mumps, but not so sick to stay in bed, Dad took us to work with him. (us being my brother and Donald, who I had a crush on and who also was home from school) We ran around the mine site before the headframe was built finding fool's gold by the ton.

The assay office and core shed were fun - and that's when I first thought I'd like to be a geologist. You could see the varying amounts of copper in the samples, and then you'd put together this jugsaw puzzle to solve where things were underground. But of course, little girls were going to grow up to be mommies and nurses, so perhaps it was just as well I got good marks in school so I could catch a smart husband.

Forty some-odd years later, someone said to me that I painted like a man, and then worried I may be insulted. This gender thing might be an interesting sideline to pursue some day, but now it's fraught with political correctness. I'd rather be re-living the smells, sights and sounds of a working mine, long before there were security guards to ensure my safety.

My well being, of course, is looked after by a very smart man who chauffeurs me around old mines, steel mills and anything else that captures my eye.