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Sep 10 2008, 1:09 pm / Mellow
I grew up in the country, My older sister by five years, and my two younger brothers. We weren't rich, but made do with what we had. We had eachother, that was so much fun! Surrounded by our small country home were farmer's fields. Also surrounding our home, were about thirty maple trees, and I swear I climbed every one of them. I was a tom boy and loved to play in the dirt, and imagine all day long. My sister and I would sit in our treehouse and guard ourselves with rifles we had made from scraps of wood we found, behind the old wooden shed in our backyard. Gaurding ourselves from two very annoying antagonists; Little brothers.......... Early morning, as the sun was setting all of us kids would pack a lunch and wander across the farmer's field towards the 'Sandpit'. Mosquitos biting at our legs, and sharp twigs brushing against our bare arms, we were soldiers. Our imagination had no limits. The 'Sandpit' was a large sandy, vacant piece of land. There used to be old barns that burnt down, just after we moved in to our home in the country. There was a large maple tree laying hoplessly on it's side. A pathetic tree with no meaning or hope. Us kids, we gave the tree pride. I was the captain and the tree was a ship. I was a captain everyday, and my ship was always loyal to me. My ship was always where I left it, and I felt like a hero. No person ever made me feel that way. As odd as it sounds...Yes it was only a tree, but that tree is one of my fondest childhood memories. My older sister, would dig forts with my dad's old shovel he let us borrow. The forts were actual holes dug in the dirt. My job was to walk into the forest and gather enough branches and twigs I could find to cover the fort. This way, we were able to conceal ourselves from the enemies. The forests surrounding the 'Sandpit' and farmers fields, had many treasures to be found. Old cans to be dug up, old coke bottles and even photos of past generations. We had so much fun pretending we were detectives and gathering all the treasures we found. There was even a a small creek. The sun always beat down hard against the rocks. Us kids, would find old sticks and twigs, and with a shoelace tied onto the sticks, we had fishing rods. We would store our tadpoles we coght that day in a spare maison jar, my mother let us use. As a child I would run everywhere barefoot. I made mud pies, and cought garder snakes with my bare hands.In autumn, I would collect all the colored leaves from the ground, and paste them in a book. I played with dolls, I loved my dolls. I can still smell 'posey' the rose scented doll I had got when I was around five years old. Listening to the record player on a saturday afternoon, with a handful of toys and books to keep my young mind occupied. My dad working long hours at the barbershop, us kids around the kitchen table, wearing aprons, baking oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. The smell of the cookies when they came out of the oven. My mother always made evrything so special for us kids. We didn't just exist, we were included and that made us happy. I want my childhood back. I still feel her inside me. I can almost reach out and grab it, but even I know that is impossible. That child is still inside of me, and she will never die............ Sincerely, Josie
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