An Acorn Of Love

A child flies down the slide into her father's arms, his smile gathers her in his arms and she is completely safe. Completely happy and anxious to do it all again, as she runs around to the stairs and climbs to the top. He'll be there, her little heart tells her with each faltering step on the metal stairs, in her happiness at feeling free, as she glides through the air, her blond curls catching the air behind her.

She reaches the top and looks into her father's eyes as she opens her arms out wide and slides down again. He scoops her up and twirls her around in circles until her giggles take her breath away.

The park is her favorite place in the world, next to her daddy's lap, as he reads to her each night before bed. Daddy always takes her to the park on his day off. She runs across the grass in her bare feet with daddy close behind and falls on the grass, out of breath. Daddy picks her up and hugs her tightly for only a moment. She's off again, chasing a butterfly as he watches a short distance away. He waits for her to lose interest in the butterfly, to see what she will find next, to bring that special smile to her chubby face. It doesn't take long for her to spy the acorns under the tree and fill her tiny pockets with them, showing him her treasures with pure happiness. Daddy touches them and tells her how beautiful they are, knowing they will soon be forgotten and dumped before her clothes are washed.

He tucks her in bed and lingers for a moment, just to look at her beautiful little face. Her lashes lying against her cheek and her lips perfectly pouty. Her round little hand closed over her fingers in a tiny fist, as if she is holding on to the day even as she sleeps. He pulls the covers up around her one more time, before shutting off the light and gently closing the door, leaving it cracked a little, just in case.

Heading down the stairs he picks up the toy that she had left lying there and smiles to himself. Still holding the toy, he sits in his favorite chair and lies back against the soft cushion, tired yet content, from playing all day. His paper is untouched and the dishes are in the sink. His eyes land on a picture frame on the mantle. Smiling, he gets up and goes to the picture. Looking into the face of her mother he sees the child, her big brown eyes and blond hair. The same sweet smile touches her mouth and he runs his finger along it and then down the white veil that folds around her, touching the grass. He lingers a moment longer, picturing his daughter, too soon wearing that same veil.

The phone rings and takes him away from his moment alone with his girls and his thoughts. He smiles, hearing the voice and pictures his wife's face. They say goodnight and he goes into the kitchen to take care of the dishes. Lying beside the sink are six acorns and a piece of gum, wrapped in a piece of tape. Picking them up and holding them in his hand, he grins. His daughter had left him a goodnight gift. He put them in his pocket and quietly did the dishes, alone with his thoughts.

He is awakened with little feet in his face. He turns over and tries to hide. She pulls the covers from around his face and peeks at him, touching his nose with her own. He smiles and hugs her to him. She jumps off the bed, holding onto his hand and pulling him with her. She is ready to start the day again. Her tiny feet smack against the floors as they pad toward the kitchen. He rubs his eyes and smiles at her tenacity so early in the day with such a smile, it melts his heart all over again.

He turned to his daughter today and lifted her veil down over her face, as he leaned to her and kissed her cheek one more time. She smiled up at him and hugged him tightly, one more time before they went arm and arm down the isle. As they heard the music that was their cue, he reached in his pocket and gave a squeeze...to the acorn he always kept there. Wasn't it just yesterday he put them there...
　
　
　
　
　

　
　
　
　
　
　
　
　

No More Chicken Please

　

Graveyard shift was always the hardest to adjust to. Sleep becomes a drug, calling your name back to the covers and closed lids, even while on the way to work for another day.

A small group of guys drove to work everyday together, switching off the car and driver, depending on the day of the week. They were now doing a stretch of graveyard shift and finding it harder and harder each day to catch up on their rest. Seven days a week and twelve hour shifts take a toll on the body and the mind, after so many weeks without a break. This was a group of guys that had known each other for years and enjoyed their hour long trips to and from work, joking together along the way. While one would drive and keep his eyes open the others would talk or doze back to sleep for a few more minutes, before taking their place again back on the ship or in the bed, depending on whether it was the beginning or the end of the day.

Driving toward the city, from the rural farmlands of home on a particularly dark night, the guys were tired and not feeling talkative today. One had laid down in the back seat and the other two were up front, feeling slow and tired, before they began another day of work, down in the bowels of a submarine. They all worked at the shipyard and had for many years. Two of them were now working on a sub that had to be overhauled. The work was hot and dirty, in extremely cramped spaces and took it's toll on the men that crawled on hands and knees through the metal tube, to provide the needed updates on the sub. The hours would seem to go on forever some days, as their bodies strained to get through the day. Finally standing up straight and breathing fresh air would give them the strength to walk the mile to the car to fall into the seats with relief.

Darkness followed them to and from work on these short winter days. Not even aware that they craved the sun, they continued week after week in the darkness.

One foggy dark night as they traveled home, almost there, the car suddenly hit something. It wasn't another vehicle because the sound of the impact didn't have the sounds of metal to metal crunching together. The impact was enough to awaken the guy in the back suddenly with a start, leaving him shaken and feeling foggy. The driver was putting on brakes and screaming, "We hit something!" The other two were frantically searching through the darkness with the headlights displaying an erie light on the road in the fog. Afraid to see what that they had hit, but knowing they had to get out and look, they each struggled to adjust their eyes to the fog laden light, floating just above the ground in ghostly shapes.

Suddenly, one of the guys grabbed his buddies arm, gripping his forearm until it hurt. They stood together as they listened to the sound. It was the cries and moans of a man. They looked at each other in horror and turned toward the sound, not wanting to go toward it, but knowing they had to. One of them reached into the car for a flashlight and shined it toward the sound. The fog was floating around them and diffusing the light. The light landed on something..it appeared to be part of something..like a body part. Cold stark fear filled them, as they moved the light further behind the car. The red glow from the rear lights of the car shone on more pieces, strewn all over the road.

The three men groaned aloud and carefully, almost stealthily crept toward the mess on the road, trying to see through the fog. It was definitely body parts strewn over the pavement and they began to feel nauseous, as they continued along the road, finding more and more parts . Suddenly, a chilling scream came from a short ways down the road. All of the guys let out a scream themselves and shot the light toward the sound, now getting closer to them. They stood so close together, a flea couldn't have gotten between the gripping fingers as they clung together, deathly afraid of what they would see. Slowly they walked toward the sound of a voice in great pain, the fear building with each step crunching the rocks on the pavement under their shoes, in the fog and darkness.

Suddenly a figure arose from the road and stood up almost knocking them over as they pulled away from it and lost their balance, landing in a heap on the road in front of the dark mass of a man. He was huge and now towering over them, as they struggled to regain their feet from underneath them.

After what seemed hours of stark silence, one of the guys yelled, "Hardy!" The man's name was Hardy and he was a local they all knew. The daylight was now almost showing through and gave a slightly erie appearance to him. They were shaking with fear, waiting for Hardy to speak, not knowing how badly he was hurt. They were afraid to speak or move. No one could speak for a few seconds, seconds that seemed like years.

Finally, Hardy cried out in an animal like scream, "You hit me!" As if that was totally uncalled for. He was drunk and smelled like he had bathed in a brewery, as he wobbled back and fourth in front of them. Finally, one of them grabbed him by the arm and stood him upright and still. Holding onto him, he told the others to check his body. They looked at him as if he were crazy! They had no desire to feel around his body for missing parts! They told him to sit him down on the pavement, before he fell down. Hardy was mumbling and waving his hands in the air. As they witnessed this, they realized his arms were still attached and they could see his legs and feet, they began to think about all the parts laying all over the road a few feet away from them. ..

Daylight was now almost in full view as they looked behind them along the road beside the car. One of the guys, no longer as afraid, walked over to a piece and leaned down closer, to see it better. He went further up the road and took a good long look at the rest of the spewn around "parts". He stood up  straight and yelled, "Hardy! What the hell is this stuff?"

Hardy looked up and almost cried, "My chicken. You killed my chicken. I'm gonna sue you."

With that said, all the guys started searching the parts and discovered it was indeed, chicken parts, not human. Not a live chicken, but cut up parts of uncooked chicken, that had been wrapped in tin foil, that was now lying in the ditch. The daylight had come upon them fully by now and they could see "parts" all over the road. As they stared back at the mess, they began to laugh. The side view mirror had been torn off it's bracket in the malay. The mirror had caught the chicken and sent it flying apart with full force, leaving the drunken Hardy to wobble around looking for it, untouched and not at all hurt from the almost hit by the vehicle.

As the guys listened to Hardy mumbling about his chicken, they let out a sigh

of relief. Looking to one another they began to laugh, harder and harder until their eyes were full of tears. Their fear of the "parts" now gone and the relief from the knowledge the car had missed this drunken mass of a man, had turned into a hysterical sight on the road. 　

The car still blinking it's red lights glowing over the parts, as though not sure the scene was over, and the tired yet relieved guys were able to laugh at the scene before them.

Taking Hardy home to be sure he was safe and off the road, they headed the few miles left to home with smiles and an occasional laugh at their nights adventure. Hungry and ready for the sleep they so deserved...they all hoped the meal that would be waiting for them... did not include chicken!

　
　
　
　
　
　
　
　
　

Run For The Candy

　
 Being the older sister, I was most of the time given the responsibility of looking after my two younger brothers. Of course with ten years difference in our ages, I was probably mostly interested in what I was doing at the time, not giving quite the attention I should have to the youngest child. Well, I mean it wasn't hard to watch him as he played on the beach and entertained himself for hours on end. Of course I was on the beach with my own friends and didn't pay a lot of attention to the time or much else either.

One day I looked around and didn't see him, as I laid in the sun to better my tan, feeling sleepy and content from the warmth of the sun. Oh well, he probably went to the house to get a drink or something. My parents were there and they would help him with that, so I didn't move from my contented place on the sand. As I turned over to better my position, I noticed that the car was gone, thinking that my parents must have gone to the store and taken him with them. After a short time, a couple of friends from next door came down to the beach and joined me. I asked them if they had seen my little brother up at the house. They told me that they had seen him on the road as they were driving in. I jerked myself up from my comfy position and shielded my eyes from the sun, taking a better look up at the house.

Suddenly I realized that my parents might not have taken my brother with them after all. I headed toward the house at a run, leaving my friends to wonder what in the world was going on. They quickly followed. Tearing through the house calling out his name, I search frantically for the four year old child that I was responsible for. My friends now understand what's happened and they join me in calling out his name and head over to the neighbors house. The child loved to go visiting and had no problem at all enjoying the neighbors hospitality just any old time.

No one had seen him since earlier in the morning and I was at a loss for places to look. Given no choice now, we head down the road. I thought that if he had gone in search of my parents, he wouldn't go far. The sandy road close to the house was shaded by tall pine trees and gave us some relief to the heat that was now rising, as the sun got higher in the sky. Of course we soon reached the paved part of the road and our bare feet had to skip along faster, in order to not feel the hot tar sticking to the bottoms. None of us had taken the time to find shoes or flip flops in our fervor to find my little brother.
Every few minutes we would run into someone from our little community, out walking their dog or heading toward the beach for the day. We would ask if they had seen him, of course they had not. Reaching the end of the road now, we were really getting scared. Our safe place had taken on a new aura as we wondered and speculated on what could have happened to him, where could he be?

Having no choice we turned and headed back up the road. No one said a word as we hurried back toward the cottage. Several cars passed us with folks we didn't know. We looked at each other and wondered where they were going and who they were, heading toward our little tight knit community of neighbors that all knew one another. Our imagination was beginning to take hold of us now. Could someone have taken him? Someone we didn't know? We started to run now, more worried than before as time was not being kind to us in our search.

We decided to split up and head back out to the beach. We would each go a different way and meet back at the house as soon as we had covered the beach as far as we could go. As far as we could go meant, without swimming across the canals that had been dug out for boats to come in. This thought was really scary, because the four year old we were searching for couldn't swim at all. If he had gotten to that point and decided to try to cross it on his own, it could have grave results. We were more aware of this now than ever before, as we thought about him tagging along with us. We would take turns carrying him on our backs as we swam across the deep water.

Heading back to the cottage with a heavy feeling among us, we talked about other places he could have gone, not wanting to think about the other possibilities, we came up with all kinds of things. We reached the beach in front of the cottage and realized that the car was back. That meant that my parents were home now and I had to tell them my brother was nowhere to be found. My breathing became somewhat heavy as I neared the door. I could hear my parents talking in very normal tones, so I knew that no one had come to the door with bad news, yet. I reached out for the handle on the door as my friends stayed on the steps, not wanting to witness what I had to tell my parents. Their heads were down and they kicked at the pine needles under their feet, needing something to do.

Finally, I jerked open the door and walked in, prepared to tell the worst news my parents could face. I had lost my brother. Just as I opened my mouth to speak, I spy my little brother happily sitting at the table with a small bag of candy in front of him and his cheeks full. His hazel eyes shining with delight. My mouth stays open, but nothing comes out. My friends are peering in the door now, seeing him sitting there, grinning and chewing the sweet treats he had acquired somehow. I look at my parents with a giant question on my face and they laughed. What? How could they be laughing! There was nothing at all funny about the last hour of searching in vane for this little brat that was as happy as a lark, especially with my now tar covered feet sticking to the rug as I wait for an explanation.

I begin to question him about where he had been and telling them all at the same time, we had been searching all over from him. My parents were somehow not the least bit disturbed that I had lost him. Now that was really strange. How could they be so calm, when I have sweat running into my eyes, from my distress over losing him and the worry about what my parents would say to me as well. I am totally confused and just stand there waiting for someone to explain what had happened to my family. Because the people standing in front of me with no concern or anger at my lack of responsibility, could not possibly be my mom and dad.
By this time, my friends had come into the house and were staring at my brother as if he were an illusion and couldn't possibly just be sitting there enjoying himself, as they stood close to me, a little afraid. Finally, my dad decided I had suffered enough. I think the fact that my friends were as surprised as I was and were waiting for an answer too, helped my dad to go ahead and tell me what had happened.

When my little brother had noticed the car leaving from his spot on the beach, he knew they could be only be going to the little store about two miles away. Now, we weren't the type of family that got to have anything we wanted all the time, we were frugal and candy was not often a treat we received. Unless we were at the cottage on the island. At this little store, we could get penny candy and my little brother wasn't going to miss an opportunity for that penny candy, no matter what he had to do.

He had run after the car as fast as he could go, bare feet flying on the hot pavement of the road. Hoping for my dad to stop the car and pick him up the whole way there, but my dad never seeing him, as the car quickly went out of sight and around the bend. He never stopped running in his quest for that penny candy. He ran the whole way and shocked my folks, as he walked into the little store and looked around for them. Out of breath and red as a beet with no shoes or shirt, he managed to tell them he had wanted to go with them and they had left him, with tears in his eyes now. The struggle of getting there was over and he was overcome with the thought of not getting any candy after all. Of course, with one look at him they melted and bought him a whole bag of penny candy, more than he had ever had in his little life at one time before.

Looking over at his sweet face, still red from his ordeal, I had to smile. Actually, we were all amazed at the strength it had taken to run as far as he had. My friends sat at the table with him and looked over his horde of penny candy. He was delighted to offer them a piece too, because he had enough to share. My friends laughed and patted him on the head, relieved that he was safe.

That day took place over forty years ago. As I traveled down that same road recently, with the tall pines above it, even taller now, that day was the picture that came to mind. The memory still as fresh as the day that it happened. The sweet little boy so determined to not be left out, that he just ran and ran toward his goal, never giving up. That little boy grew into a man, still just as sweet and with the same determination to reach his goals, never giving up. He has his own family now and they are grown.

We laughed together, as we drove along that long straight road shaded with pine trees, remembering...and smiling together over the shared memory.
　
　
　
　
　
　
　
　
　
　
　
　
　
　

Lane James Reverie: Daddy In My Heart

Lane James Reverie: Daddy In My Heart: "　 Awakened by a light on my face, I rub my eyes and turn to see the moonlight shining through the window, almost like a beacon guiding me t..."

Daddy In My Heart

　
Awakened by a light on my face, I rub my eyes and turn to see the moonlight shining through the window, almost like a beacon guiding me to it. Going to the window to be sure it's only the moon, a cloud passes over it and shutters the bright light for a moment. Fully awake now, I lean against the window sill and wait for that glorious round beacon to come from behind the cloud again.

Slowly the cloud dissipates and leaves behind threads of the hazy mist, gently covering it and taking the brightness away. It's still full and round, but the misty threads make it seem further away now. Fully awake with no desire to go back to bed, I make coffee and sit on the porch to watch, as it takes on a pale yellow color and seems to send me a message of quietude in the last moments of darkness before the day begins.

Slowly the moon moves further away and floats into daylight with it's graceful departure. A smile crosses my face as I think about the coming day. Today is Father's Day. A day that comes once a year and is celebrated by families with food and laughter and gifts. Gifts that have been given such loving thought, so that Dad's will be delighted with them. Fun gifts that bring smiles to them as they open the brightly wrapped packages and thoughtful of things he will like. Daddy's favorite cake is baked with loving hands and delight, knowing how much he will love it. The grill will be loaded with his most favorite foods, cooked to perfection or burned to a crisp, with laughter and chiding! The table will be laid with bright cloths and napkins, with beautiful paper plates to fly off in the wind and quickly picked up by the children running around the yard to catch them in time.
The children all running and playing with shrieks of laughter and the frisbee landing on top of the cake! What fun to be had as the day approaches with the sun rising high in the sky.

I am reminded that the hands I use to form my dough today, were so lovingly held by my Dad. The warmth is still there after these many years. He has been gone for such a long time and yet, I think of him every day as I make my way through all the chores and through the years. He taught me how to hold a saw and use it correctly, as together we made new steps for the house. We didn't have a shop to work in, so we used the dining room table. I will never forget the look on his face when we realized that we had cut a V, right into the table. That was the day I learned how to laugh at myself, because he taught me by example. We looked at each other and slowly the smile came.. and then the laughter. I waited for his reaction as I touched the freshly cut space in the table, wondering....When he began to smile, so did I. I followed his lead and learned that day, that mistakes happen. Over the years, long after he was gone, I could touch that spot in the table and feel the memory as fresh as the day it happened.

As I have gone through life using my hands to fix or make so many things, I know how blessed I am to have my daddy in me. He guides me through, still today. He gave me the tools to know that I can..do anything I set my mind to. He gave to me the talents to use my mind and hands in unison, perhaps not always satisfied with the results, but giving it my best. He taught me well.

Of course one look from him, without any words from, would tell me I was close to the edge and needed to correct my behavior, fast! That lesson was learned at an early age. I never wanted to disappoint him and try still today, to live in a way that would make him proud. Whenever a new project is completed, I think of him and wonder what he would think of me. I can just see his smile and his green eyes sparkling with humor.

In his later years, he learned that he loved to cook. I have to laugh when I think of that, because I was no longer there to cook for him. I had left home and taken that talent with me, leaving him to take on most of the cooking himself. He was so proud one day when he made Jambalaya, anxious for me to taste it and approve. I did!
How times had changed while I was away. 

Daddy always went to the meat market on Thursdays. Whenever I could join him for lunch on those days, taking time off from work, we would enjoy the deviled crabs that he would buy as a treat. I buy them today with that special memory, allowing me to enjoy them one more time.

I look in the mirror and see myself and my Dad, blended together with expressions and coloring. I'm so glad to see those things in me, to have and to hold forever. His gentle manner always amazed me. I wish that I had inherited that too, but my temper seems to have come from somewhere else. Although, control has finally been achieved in this life I live, without him around.
How I wish I could talk him today and feel his hand in mine, once again..
　
　
　
　
　
　

Lane James Reverie: Because I Love You Daddy

Lane James Reverie: Because I Love You Daddy: "The boy swung on the gate watching his father in the field. His feet were on the bottom rung of the gate and it would swing all the way to t..."

Because I Love You Daddy

The boy swung on the gate watching his father in the field. His feet were on the bottom rung of the gate and it would swing all the way to the fence. He would push off from the fence and swing back again, doing this over and over as he watched for a very long time, his father going back and fourth over the field, cutting the hay. Finally his feet were hurting from standing on the rung of the gate and the boy went back to the house. He took out his toys and played in the floor, waiting for his father to come home. After dinner he went out and looked at the field again. His father was almost out of sight now, just a tiny dot on the horizon, far down the sloping pastures of hay.

The young boy didn't ride on the gate this time, darkness would soon come and cover the way home with the nights blanket. Kicking the dirt as he walked back toward home, he turned and looked one more time at the tiny dot that was his father.

A sadness was in his footsteps as again, he went back to the house, alone. The boy went to the door every few minutes and looked out, looking to see if he could see his father coming. The wait was long today.

The boy sat down in the floor again and tried to make himself have a good time with his toys. He was quite the little engineer with Lego's, and enjoyed building with them most of time, keeping himself entertained for hours. Tonight he just couldn't seem to enjoy it as much, finally putting them away.

Long after darkness had fallen and the boy had on his pajamas, ready for bed, his father came into the house. His face was covered with the dust from the hay and his eyes looked old and tired. The boy didn't see this though as he jumped into his fathers arms with the a juge smile for the long awaited joy of seeing him. His father was happy to see him too, for a moment. His tired bones got the best of him though, as he sat down and fell back in the chair, closing his eyes. The boy ran and got the toy he had been making to show his father, so proud of his accomplishment, looking up to him, for his fathers pride in his work. The father barely nodded with a quick look and closed his eyes again. "Just give me a minute." He said to the boy. Understanding that his father just didn't feel like looking right now, the boy went off and played on the floor near him, talking to himself since nobody else would and feeling as though he was unworthy.

Too tired to eat, much less play with his son, the father was soon asleep in the chair. Not for long though, because he still had to take care of the animals in the barn. He managed to get back on his feet and head out the door again. When he returned to the house the boy had gone to bed, he had waited as long as he could. The father didn't noticed that he was gone until he had finished eating something and that is was so late. All he knew and all he could manage, was to go to bed. Sleep took over for a few hours, until it was time for his father to do it all again. Daylight was fast approaching as he shut the door behind him.

The boy awakened to a new day with lots of things on his mind to do that day. He rushed down the stairs to see his father just closing the door behind him. A sadness swept over the boy as once again, his father was gone. Of course, the boy understood how important it was to do the work on the farm while the weather was good. Still...he was missing him more and more as the days turned into weeks. The boy decided that he would just have to go help his father in the fields. That way, maybe his father wouldn't be so tired and they could play together, maybe for a moment. He didn't need a lot of time, but he needed a little. For all of his seven years, the boy was sure that he could be a great help to his father, as a plan began to form in his mind.

He gathered his boots and hat and sat them by the door. As soon as he had eaten breakfast, he took off running to the barn, determined to be the help his dad needed in order to have some energy and time left at the end of the day. He stopped dead in his tracks... as he watched the tractor at the far end of the field. His dad had already left, without him. The silent tears slid down his face as he stood there watching until the tractor was gone from sight. The young boy turned and headed back towards the house, completely desolated. He thought to himself that he hadn't tried hard enough.

The tears were running down his chubby cheeks, making him mad when he reached the house. He didn't want to cry, he wanted to be helpful!

Just as he reached the step to the porch he heard the sound of the tractor! Turning quickly to run back down to the barn, he fell, hard. Bumping his head on the hard ground, leaving him just a little dizzy. Frantic to get to the barn in time before the tractor pulled away again, he ran down the hill, his head bleeding and tears in his eyes. He got to the barn just as his father got off the tractor. When his father saw the condition of the child's face, he was frightened and rushed over to him. The boy couldn't talk yet, he was so out of breath. Finally, after a few minutes, the boy wiped his eyes with his sleeve and said to his father, "You left me."

At first his dad didn't understand, then it dawned on him what had happened. He picked his son up in his arms and held him tight as his heart nearly broke. "Come on, let's go get that cut cleaned up." The boy wasn't worried about his cut, or the dirt that had mixed with the tears on his face. "But Daddy, I want to help you." His father had to turn away for a moment to hide his quivering lip, as the love for his son brimmed up to his eyes. "Son, you can help me today. After we get that head of yours fixed up." He said gently. Taking the boys hand in his, they walked back to the house. The boy was completely happy, holding his dad's hand and feeling as though the fall in the dirt was worth it, he might try that again! He looked up at his dad and smiled with the happiness only a child's eyes can show, as they walked in unison, step for step.

After he had washed his son's face and gotten a smile out of him, he asked the boy, "Why is it so important to help me today?" The boy looked up at his father, "Because I love you Daddy."

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

　

The Waterhole

Ronnie was eight and Matt was nine. Two best friends that spent all their time together. As far as their mothers were concerned, they could have been brothers and it was always natural for them to be at one another's houses. They lived next door to one another and as luck would have it, each of their rooms were directly across from one another's, both upstairs on the third floor. Both boys also each had an older sister, Miranda and Tansy. Since the girls were older, almost teens, they couldn't stand to be around the boys and they also couldn't stand one another. They only spoke to each other if their parents were within hearing distance, in order to not get scolded. Miranda wasn't nearly as prissy as Tansy and could actually be found down at the swimming hole with her own friends on a hot day, swinging on the rope over the water.

The town was small but well developed, with good folks in a tight knit community. Main Street circled around a very small park with a statue of the towns founder in the middle of a fountain. Quaint, would usually be the opinion of anyone passing through town. The stores and businesses lined the wide street with parking in front of them. Of course there was more parking behind them as well and an ally that ran almost the entire length of the town. The town boasted of two law firms and a small paper, which Matt's father owned. Still, the town was a quiet and mostly uneventful place where folks waved to one another and knew all of their neighbors, and their business.
Many of the older folks that lived closest to the town, sat on their porches just to visit with folks walking past, it seemed to keep them satisfied and the town didn't have an Nursing Home, they didn't seem to need it.

The swimming hole was a small bayou surrounded by beaches and trees close to the water with branches that reached out over the water. An old fallen tree jutted out from the beach and made the perfect diving platform. Most days you could find the two boys here. Today the boys had been jumping off from it for awhile when Miranda showed up with her friends, telling them to get lost. The boys weren't ready to be done with their swimming yet and refused to go. Both of them standing their ground on the log, daring the older kids to knock them off. Of course, the girls did knock them off and took over the log, leaving the boys to swim to the beach and leave all of their hats and pocket belongings behind. Today this just didn't set too well with them and they decided to do something about it.

The boys had a hiding place in the woods underneath a tree, for things they found but didn't want to take home. A rope, some wire, balls that had been lost in the park. They kept them in a wooden box and covered it with tree limbs, in case someone should stumble across it. They headed up to where the box was located and looked through it to see if there was anything in it to help with their plan for revenge. "This stuff ain't no good Ronnie! What can we do with this?" Matt cried out in frustration. Matt knelt down and looked through it all again, then shook his head. He couldn't figure out anything that would work either. He looked at Ronnie and said, "I got an idea! Come on." Matt took off toward town with Ronnie close behind, both of them wearing only in their wet shorts and no shoes. When they got to the road, the pavement burned their feet so bad they had to step onto the grass. "Dang that hurt! Let's go home and get some shoes first." Matt suggested. "Yeah, I guess we better. I just don't want to take a chance on them leaving before we get back down there to pay 'em back!" Ronnie said.

Since they were in hurry they cut across Old Man Meltons yard. He was a stickler for keeping people off his grass. He tended it most everyday and watered it twice a day in the summer. He was the town showoff and liked to have the best looking yard in the neighborhood. He kept a sharp eye out for trespassers too. The boys slunk down as low as they could and still walk. They spied the old man in the front of the house on the porch and knew that he couldn't see them if they made the next 10 feet without being seen. Quickly they scooted across the lawn and stopped behind a flowering tree to check and see if they had been spotted. The way was clear and they took off running at top speed. They ran so hard their mouths were wide open and their wet shorts dropped even further down their non existent hips. Running full out and holding on to their shorts was a sight to see, as their mothers glanced up from their walk, to spot them skirting under the bushes into Ronnie's yard. They laughed at the sight of them, brown skinned and blond haired from the sun, and skinny as rails as they shot under the bushes between the houses.
The two mother's smiled a knowing smile, as they looked back to see if Mr. Melton had spotted them. They had been told many times not to use his yard as shortcut, but could see that today was a have to. The moms knew that they had started off with shirts and shoes on when they left this morning, no sight of them now though. They had seen this before and knew that someone had thrown them off the swimming hole. They did look down the street to see if anyone was chasing them. Not seeing anyone, they resumed their walk and left the boys to figure it out on their own, smiling at their ability to not get caught on Mr. Meltons grass.

Ronnie went to his house to get shoes and a shirt and Matt went to his. They came out of the house at the exact same time and met up on the sidewalk. "Hey Matt, I'm hungry. Let's get some lunch before we go back." Ronnie said. "Ok. Come on, my mom just got fresh bread." Matt offered. Heading into the house just as his mom came up the walk, Matt stopped and asked her what was for lunch. Smiling his mom answered, "Looks like clean shirts and shoes." The boys looked at each other wide eyed. They had been seen. The boys were mortified that they had been caught after all, thinking they had been as swift and stealthy as the wind and nobody could see them. Now this was a disappointment to them as they went into the house and sat at the table, waiting for the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches Matt's mother had offered to make.

After his mom had served the sandwiches and milk, she went down to the basement to do laundry. Matt looked at Ronnie and said, "We gotta be more careful going across his yard. Maybe we should go all the way around from now on." Ronnie looked at him and said, "Naw man. So what if we get caught, it's just grass!" Matt wasn't sure he wanted to find out what would happen if they did get caught though. He had a brand new bike out in the garage and he didn't want to take on a chance on being grounded from riding it, as his lips formed a thin line and he slowly shook his head. "What?" Ronnie asked. "Nothing." Matt answered, he didn't want to look like a baby to his best friend.

Taking two extra sandwiches and putting them in the backpack, they headed out and went down the street to a friends house. Now this friend was a man that wasn't quite old, but not nearly young either. He collected lots of things in his back yard and liked for the boys to come by and see his treasures. They were sure that today they could trade those sandwiches for something he had on hand. They had devised a plan while they ate lunch.
They would sneak down to the water hole late that evening and grease up the rope. It would have to be a grease that couldn't be seen on the rope. Then tomorrow when Miranda showed up, they would dare her to jump out the furthest into the water. They laughed and giggled at the thought of her sliding right off the rope into the shallow part of the water unable to hold onto the rope. Every time they pictured her falling, they doubled over in laughter and slapped each other on the back. They were quite proud that they had devised such a plan.

Reaching Stanley's house, they looked around and called out for him. He came around from the back yard and greeted them, "Hey there you two. Been wondering what 'chall been up to. Hot, hot today." He said shaking his head. The boys told him about their swimming hole dilemma and he laughed and said, "Come on, I got just what 'cha need."
Armed with a whole can of clear grease they headed back home to wait for Miranda to return. As soon as she was safely inside the house, they took off for the waterhole, sneaking down through the trees so no one would see them. There on the log were their shoes and shirts in a pile. At least they didn't throw them in the water to float away or to the bottom. Ronnie was the best climber of the two and headed up the rope as far as he thought Miranda could reach. Looking down at Matt, he stopped and said, " Now how do I get the grease up here?" Matt held the can in his hands and looked at it, turning it around as if to find the answer. He looked up at Ronnie and decided he could throw it up to him. "Here, catch!" He yelled up to him. Ronnie reached out for the can that was coming up to him. It almost reached him, but began it's descent before Ronnie could reach it. The rope wasn't easy to hold on to with one hand and it swayed back and fourth when he reached out for the can. Plop! The can hit the water and Matt jumped in to retrieve it quickly. Ronnie came down from his position on the rope and looked at the can.

"We need a way to carry the grease up there with us." Ronnie stated. Both boys stared at the can hoping for an easy answer to their problem. Neither of them had one and they decided to come back in the morning and try again. Maybe they would think of a better way later on. Later that night Matt flashed his flashlight over to Ronnie's window. That was the signal. Ronnie came to the open window. "Hey, we can put the grease in a plastic bag and it will fit in our pocket." Matt told him. Ronnie grinned and nodded, "I never thought of that! That'll work great. See ya in the morning."

At daylight both boys headed down to the waterhole, whispering as if someone would hear them. Just as they neared the path that wound itself around to the waterhole, they heard voices. Slowing down and crouching low, they peered over the branches. Sitting on the log, dangling their feet in the water, were the two town lawyers. Looking at each other in total surprise, both boys almost laughed out loud. Creeping back the same way they had come they walked slowly home, kicking at the dirt in frustration. It seemed the waterhole was getting crowded and they were the only two not able to use it. Feeling totally disappointed, they went in to get some breakfast, feeling hunger pangs gnawing at their tummy's now.

Sitting at the table scoffing down the bacon and eggs with jelly toast now, they began to feel better. Matt's mom looked over at them and smiled, "Boys, Miranda and I are going to the mall today. We won't be back in time for lunch, so you two will have to find your own lunch today, ok?" They looked at each other and then back at his mom and nodded. Their great plan was looking more like a bust as the day progressed. Heading up to Matt's room and laying across the beds with their heads buried in their hands, they groaned and moaned. "Now what?" Ronnie asked. Matt turned over on his back and stared at the ceiling. He did this on a regular basis, looking for answers, as if they might just be floating up there for him to see. He didn't answer Ronnie, just stared upward. Finally, Ronnie got up and said, "We gotta wait til tomorrow now. Hey, I wonder if those lawyers go down there much." This caught Matt's attention, "Yeah, I wonder if they were talking about some big case, you know?"

Ronnie was thoughtful, "We ought to sneak down there tomorrow morning and see if we can hear anything. Maybe there's some big case going on!" He looked at Matt for encouragement. Matt sat up on the bed and got to his knees, the bed shaking beneath him. His brain was beginning to go into overdrive now, "Let's go get the paper and see if there is anything in there. Maybe it's a murder case!"
They ran down the stairs, both flights of them and found the paper beside his dad's chair. "Where do you look for that kind of story?" Ronnie asked. Matt shook his head, "I don't know. Come on, let's go down to the paper and ask my dad."

Ronnie thought this was a great idea. They took the bikes and rode to town, parking them in front of the building. Heading inside they were greeted by everyone and told that Matt's dad was in his office. Sometimes he might be up the street at the Cafe'. He liked to hang out there and listen to all the things going on in the town, in case there might be a story to write. Turning the knob and opening the door just a little, Matt poked his head in, "Hi Dad."
His dad looked up from his desk and smiled at him, "Well, to what I owe this visit?"
Matt grinned, "We need to know how to read the paper." His dad looked at him and laughed, " The same way you read a book." "No, I mean..we need to know which part of the paper would have news about stuff..like..uh.a murder?" Matt stumbled over the words as he realized he didn't want to give away their secret.
His dad laughed again, "Well, usually that type of story would be on the front page or the next few pages. Son, why don't you just read through the whole paper and find the answers you are looking for?"
Matt smiled, "Yeah, I guess we can do that. Hey Dad, has there ever been a murder here in town?" His dad didn't smile at that question. "Why all the interest in this?" Matt squirmed and shuffled his feet with Ronnie staying close behind him. "Ah you know, just wondering." He said. "Bye Dad."

The boys shut the office door and headed toward the door to outside. Almost reaching it, they were stopped by the oldest person there. "Boys, you got a minute?" They stood still and waited, he probably wanted them to go get him a coffee or something. "I heard you asking about a murder here in town. How'd you hear about that?" The boys glanced at each other. "Naa, we didn't hear nothing." Matt said as he slipped quickly out the door with Ronnie almost on top of him. When they were clear of the paper Ronnie stopped his bike with a skid, "Maybe we shouldn't be asking any more questions." Matt looked at him and said, "Why not?" Ronnie shook his head, "I bet that's the reason those lawyers met down at the waterhole, so nobody could hear what they was talking about. Maybe it is a murder!"
Matt was thoughtful about this and they rode along toward home at slower pace thinking about their options.

They went out back when they got home and sat under the shade of the trees. "You know, I think my dad was right. We gotta read the paper to find out if there has been murder here." Matt finally said. Ronnie looked at him, "I got a better idea! Come on." He headed down the street and stopped in front of his aunt's house. "Mom says if Aunt Bet doesn't know it, it ain't happened. Let's go ask her." Aunt Bet was sitting on the porch in her rocker. "Well hello boys. This is a nice surprise. Sit down with me." She offered. " Would you boys like some cookies?" "No mam, we were just hoping you could answer a question for us. Seems like nobody else in town knows much about stuff around here. I figured you would know." Ronnie said, with a big smile. Aunt Bet grinned, I know pretty much everything that goes on in this town, for sure." She was quite proud of her knowledge of the townsfolk.

"Well, we just wanted to know if there had ever been a murder here in town." Ronnie said, leaning in close to her as if they could share a secret. "Oh yes! Why just the other day, down beyond the railroad tracks they found....now you boys are too young for this kind of talk. Let me get you those cookies!" She went in to the house shaking her head. Ronnie and Matt looked at each other with knowing smiles. They had tracked down the information without even reading the paper. Not wanting to hurt Aunt Bet's feelings they patiently waited for the cookies and lemonade she would bring out to the porch. But they were anxious to get back home now and read the paper for any information it had.

They found a spot in the paper that listed local offenses and listed the names of the offenders as well. Below this they found a one paragraph story about a body being found close to the tracks and it had not been identified. This was it! Ronnie jumped up from the floor where they had laid out the paper. "This is what they must have been talking about! He was murdered and thrown on the tracks." Matt was thoughtful and said, "They don't even know who it was." Ronnie was excited now, "We can start looking and find out who he was and solve the case!" Matt wasn't quite as eager, "I don't know..I never been over there to the tracks. My dad would kill me if I got caught too!"

It was a long hot ride over to the other side of town and they weren't familar with it. They had ridden through it in the car with their parents from time to time, but never paid any attention at all. It seemed to be kind of dirty and broken down. The houses were in need of attention, not at all like the freshly painted house on their own street. People were sitting in chairs outside and didn't seem at all friendly. Ronnie stopped his bike. "Now what?" Matt looked around and said, "I don't see anybody we could ask." On the corner there was a store. They went in and looked around for the drinks. Finding them, they each got a coke and took it to the counter to pay for it. "You boys ain't from around here. What 'cha doing down here?" Ronnie was no longer excited and pulled on Matt's shirt to get out of the store. For some reason, Matt decided to be brave and said, "We heard there was a guy that got killed and I was worried it might be my uncle. He rides the trains."

The skinny little man looked overtop of his glasses and bent down toward Matt, "Might be your uncle huh?" His nasally voice had gotten louder with this and Matt backed up into Ronnie. He shook his head in answer to the man's question, a little afraid now. The man leaned over the counter even further and said, "That old feller didn't ride no train, he ain't yore uncle neither! He lived here his whole life and had a heart attack while he was picking up bottles along the track. Now, what 'cha think about that?" His eyes had turned black and the menancing look scared the boys so bad they took off running. Hopping on their bikes they didn't stop until they reached the porch at Ronnie's house. Laying their bikes down and climbing the steps to the porch they sat in the chairs to cool off.
"Hey Matt, let's don't read the paper anymore, or listen to other folks conversations. I can't take it." Ronnie told him. "Me either! Let's go put that grease on the rope, that'll be enough for me. I don't want to go detectiveing ever again. And I don't want to go in that store, ever again!" Matt replied back to him.

After lunch they headed down to the water hole with full intentions of greasing up that rope. But once they got there they decided to swim and jump from the rope themselves. Laying across the log after a while Matt said, "You know, if we grease that rope, we can't use it either anymore." Ronnie looked at him and nodded, "Yeah, guess we better just wait til Miranda don't want to swim anymore. I heard my mom and yours talking and they said that it wouldn't be long til Miranda wouldn't want to do those things. She'll be a teenager." Matt got up and grabbed the rope, "Yeah, and we can still swing after she leaves." He swung out over the water and dropped in, holding his legs up with his arms to make a big splash.

Matt and Ronnie always came down to the waterhole whenever they had summer break, after they had gone off to college. Sitting on the log as grown young men, they talked and laughed about the summers of swinging on the rope and the summer they tried to be detectives.. for a moment!
　
　
　
　
　
　
　
　
　

Hot Times On The Farm

　
On a particularly hot day in June, the temperature was right at 100 degrees, our family had a job to do. We couldn't put it off and take care of it on another day, it had to be done that day. Actually, we were timing the meds in our cows so they could be bred. It's a fine art to making sure the cows are in good shape and ready to be bred again to bring another calf to the herd. Of course the calf can't be just any breed, no it must be chosen carefully. The choice's are endless and time consuming, reading through all the stats of the parents, in order to come up with a fine little bull or heifer calf. Of course the bull of choice must have all the proper traits in order to add to the growth of the calf in a timely manner. Yes, it's all quite scientific these days. The old farmers would just turn the bull out with the cows and wait until the next year to see what they had when the calves were born.


We have come a long way..or not! Today we artificially inseminate the cows. As we headed to the barn to begin the first round of the process, sweat was heavy on our clothes and foreheads. It's hard to see when you have salty sweat in your eyes and wiping it away only tends to make your skin tender and painful. Walking any distance at all was a struggle to breath in the heavy humidity. Once inside the barn, you had to chew the air in order to get a breath, it was so heavy. The need to hurry along with the job so we could get back to some air that was breathable was in all our minds. Now, I need to explain that my husband has a tendency to get all wrapped up in the task at hand, the cows. He doesn't see much else going on around him, like the people helping, when cows are being herded or if they have gotten out. His rather loud voice gets even louder and if things aren't going his way, it takes on an even higher pitch. The kind of sound that makes you want to sneak away and hide, so he can't find you.

Today the cows had to be brought up to the corral, this was not usually difficult at all. They are quite willing to come to the barn, thinking there will be food, the good chewy kind that comes in a bag, not the green grass of the pasture that they must chew on for some time. Although, they do love new green grass. My husband assured me that he didn't need help bringing them up, they would follow him without any problem. Most of them did. One did not. Yes..there's always one that doesn't like to follow the crowd.
Well, as I sat under the barn trying to stay out of the burning sun, my husband hollers for me to "run" around the barn and cut this cow off. Surely not, I think. Run? Oh yes, as he calls to me in a rather impatient voice. (yell!) I get off my comfy bucket and grab a stick and climb over the gate. In a hurry to help you know, no time to unlatch it. I run around the barn and don't see him or the cow. I stand very still and wait for that ever increasing volume of his voice. Yep! There it is, telling me to come around the other way. I look around and realize that he has shut all the gates, so I think the quickest and easiest way is to climb over the wood fence.
You know, I am so anxious to do a good job...uh huh!

Well, I get one leg over and push myself up with the other...just as the board gives way. I'm already up and going over..and then down. Hard. I hit the dirt on my left side with an indescribable sound..sort of...hummmffffttttt. I don't really think there is a word to describe the sound of this old girl hitting the dirt from the top of the fence with more than a thud. It knocked the breath out of me and hurt to boot! Oh yes, my husband is now yelling for me to hurry up and cut that cow off before she goes back to the field. I can hear him, the whole county could hear him, but I couldn't quite get myself together. Finally, thinking I had to hurry up and cut that cow off, you know..life or death, I take off. My chest is still heaving and my feet want to crumble beneath me, but I keep going. Finally, before I made the turn around the building, I sat down. Right there in the dust and dirt and...other stuff. I just had to get control of my breathing and no longer felt the need to hurry..for that dumb cow or that now angry impatient husband.

Well, my husband had gotten tired of waiting on me and came around the building. Hands on his hips, sweat dripping off his eyebrows, he asked me what I thought I was doing just sitting there. I glance up at him with my gasping for air chest heaving...and shoot him my most loving... not, I mean most mean look. "Breathing!" I say with a gasp. Any fool could see that I was having a moment to say the least. He slaps his hands against his thigh and tells me to go on home if I can't be more help. Yeah...he said that. I stand up and take my stick....and manage turn to the cow instead of him, although... Through heavy, but not as hard breathing, I walk toward the cow and click at her. She walks into the corral as if I had said please. After all that, she just walks in! He could have done that himself!

I continue walking back toward the barn and again, climb over the fence, being careful to not step on the same board that had sent me flying a few minutes earlier.
My dear husband then asks me if I am ok. I glance at him and continue heading to the barn unable to speak at this point, where my bucket awaited me. My son was coming in the drive by then to help. We went into the barn together and he asked if I was ok. So sweet! He could just tell by the drained look on my face that I was in fact, not so ok. I told him about my flying leap into the pasture and after he stopped laughing from picturing it, he was ready to take care of me. By that time, I had calmed myself down and was breathing regularly, or as good as could be expected in that oppressive heat. He had taken note of my dirty shirt and had an idea that I was not having a good time.

About that time my husband came into the barn. Now that the cows were all in the proper place, he was ready to check on my condition. First things first you know, the cows not the wife! Just as I was ready to go off, and I do not mean with a song, my sweet son told me to rest for a bit. He could tell by the look on my face I was building up to a tongue lashing that would last awhile and he wanted to get on with the business at hand without having to endure that. He grinned at me and I laughed. He was right, I would just get hotter if I ever got started.

We did finally finish working all those cows, at just about dark. It hadn't cooled off any, but at least the sun had gone down behind the trees for a little relief. We headed to the truck. I turned to see him going back to the pasture. Not really thinking anything about it, I got in the truck and turned the A.C. up on high and the radio too. Putting my seat back in the recline position, I was feeling pretty good. Out of the corner of my eye I saw my husband standing on the other side of the fence calling to me. Notice I said the corner of my eye, I wasn't about to turn my head in his direction at that point, after all, I didn't even get to yell at him earlier and I am in no mood to go chasing any more cows today.
After a while he came to the truck and said, "Didn't you hear me calling you?"
I just shook my head, with that oh so innocent look. He got in the truck and told me he couldn't find his shoes and had needed my help. He had left them in the barn, but couldn't find them when he took his boots off. We go all the way home, about two miles, with those silly shoes sitting on the bumper where my son had sat them, to be helpful in gathering everything out of the barn.

I had walked to the back of the truck to get my cooler out and saw them sitting there, on the bumper! I lifted them up in the air for him to see and we both began to laugh hysterically. Those poor old shoes must have wanted to be back home in the air conditioning as bad as we did!
After cooling out and a shower he snuggled up for a hug and told me how sorry he was. I told him he sure was! But I had to laugh too, now that we were out of that miserable hot barn! The thing is, we have to do it all again in seven days, oh I hope it's not as hot and I can manage to keep my feet on the ground! Old folks don't fly well at all.
　
　
　
　

Walking Tall Mom

　

Raising kids isn't always easy, especially in the summertime. The first week that school is out anything pleases them. The week after that...not so much. I consider myself lucky that for most of my kids childhood, we had a pool or a river somewhere, most of the time. It seemed that wherever we moved there was a pool or a friend with a place on the river, that we could go spend time and make those long hot days seem fun, rather than just hot!

My kids learned how to swim at an early age and were quite good at it, leaving me the luxury of laying back and watching them, with that one eye open at all times. It always seemed to me that the one eye didn't even blink while my kids were in the water. I was the mom that always knew which wet head at the deep end belonged to me. A certain amount of fear that I would miss something, like them getting too full of water and sinking to the bottom, wouldn't allow me to close both eyes at the same time.
One Fourth of July, the day came. I had stared at that head long enough to know when it was bobbing up and down in a panic, and not just for fun! I wasn't dressed to go swimming that day, since I had to man the food stand later. Never one to worry overmuch about how I dressed or looked, into the pool I dove, shoes and all.

The lifeguard and I reached him at the exact same time. She on one side and me on the other, we hauled him up out of the water. Spluttering and gasping he reached up for me and held on for dear life. The lifeguard and I exchanged looks of gratitude and took him to the side. Of course, being the type of mother that I am, I only let him get his breath back and shoved him back in the water again. As he looked up at me, struggling to decide if I had stopped loving him or if I were just plain crazy, he slowly began to relax. He did of course wonder for a moment if he ever wanted to swim again, I smiled and told him he would be fine from now on, just go have fun. It took all of five minutes for him to forget all about it. Not me.

The lifeguard came and sat beside me offering me a towel. I had of course not brought one for myself and gratefully excepted. Being young, she was worried that I thought less of her for not getting to him before I did. I assured her that I knew she had seen him at the same time I did and didn't mind at all that we were both there when he needed us. Of course from that day on, two eyes were always open, never again assuming that my kids were immune to danger, just because they were good swimmers. The other side of that coin was that my kids knew I would always be there to save them, even if there was a lifeguard on duty. I grew several inches in height that day in my kids eyes and I must admit, I enjoyed it immensely for some time to come. Meaning, until they became teens! Oh boy, was that a comedown. They were sure that I couldn't possibly know anything at my old age.

But before they reached the age of all knowing, those long summer days had gotten boring and they were searching in vain for something to do. Something fun of course. By this time the pool was in the back yard and they had a tendency to get bored with it. I put on my thinking cap and came up with an idea. An idea that to this day my son just can't get over. He tells his friends that nobody else had a mom that would demand such things of her kids.

I went into my wood shop and came out with three pairs of stilts. Suddenly, I was an amazing mom. But they were stumped about how to go about using them. Yes, this is where I rose to new heights in there eyes, as I stepped up on the stilts and took off across the yard. All the kids were running behind me laughing and begging to have a try. Yes, I was the tallest mom around that day. Each one tried and tried until they finally got the hang of it. Of course their admiration that I could so easily climb up on them and walk anywhere I chose was still there.

I never told them that my own father had made us a pair when I was their age. I had remembered the joy when I had mastered walking on stilts and I wanted them to realize the same feelings. After all, not every kid on the block has stilts! Well, none of the kids in our neighborhood had them, making it all the more special.

They didn't know then that the lesson to be learned was making use of what you have, and not crying about what you don't. It did eventually sink in for my kids. I might not always have something up my sleeve, but most of the time I could come up with something to spark their interest.

Today, my son is still amazed that I would make them learn how to walk on stilts. They came in handy at Halloween that year too, as I made them into" walking tall scarecrows"!