I was thinking of some of the funniest things that happened in my childhood and the first memory is of my uncle lighting his farts on fire through his jeans, ya pretty crazy shit especially when that single thread catches on fire, lmao. We used to get into a fifty gallon metal container and roll down the hill never thinking we would hit the witches finger tree but of course did and crawled out of the container as if we were drunk.
I so loved to swing on the tire swing and my brother and sister would spin me to the point the rope wouldn’t turn any longer and they would let go, I would gain momentum as I unwound and ended up falling out of the tire as if I were seriously stoned on acid. Another time that makes me laugh is when my sister and I were sitting on a swing on the porch and I caught something out of the corner of my eye moving, it was a snake and my sister actually pissed herself, lmao.
When you are a child you do some stupid shit like pulling your sweater over the palm of your hand and trying to lift the electric wire to go under it and realize the sweater doesn’t protect you, ya a bit of a shock it was. As children we are so innocent and naive that we are not prepared for things that happen and we wonder at times why, the best part of life is as a young child when we are shaped by our family and the world, how we react to situations and others, how we start to put the building blocks in place which shape our lives.
My fondest memories were the years between 5-7 when I lived with my grandparents, living on a farm taught me so much and to appreciate life in its simplest yet strongest form, the land. When you are raised on a farm you are raised quite differently than those that are not and they cannot understand why living on a farm would be so happy, so carefree, a teacher, a friend for life. You can go back and look at how far you have come and how successful you are but the heart, yes the heart will always be called back home by the land.
A memory that is so fitting to my sister is when we were taking a bath, we actually lived in a 3 room house with no running water or plumbing and my grandmother heated water on the cast iron wood burning stove and would pour the water, which came from the pump into the tub in the middle of the kitchen. My sister and brother were in the tub with me and all of a sudden there was a floater, a big floater and my sister blamed my brother but the truth came out about 35 yrs. later and she finally admitted it was her floater, so typical of my sister.
I was once walking on a fallen tree and fell off and landed on a piece of wood with a huge nail threw it that went threw my foot, my grandmother pulled it out and made me soak my foot in epsom salt, which actually helped and I didn’t get blood poisoning, I can also remember how my sister wanted to play superman by having a rope thrown over the top of our swingset and had me pull her up and I was smaller than her and she almost reached the top and I couldn’t hold her any longer and dropped her and she broke her arm.
Kids can do some stupid shit but those are the memories that sustain us through out our lives and those memories are the ones that call us home.