A Simple Life

A Simple Life

I grew up in the country. Houses were miles apart and dirt roads paved the way to your destination. Dairy farms were common place. The smell of manure stained the air no matter what time of year it was, not to mention what it did to the roads. During the summer mosquitos were relentless in their quest for blood and the flies seemed to multiply before your very eyes. Particles from the freshly cut hay fields seemed to stick in your eyes and nose. During the winter months these same fields became your winter playground full of snowmen, snow forts, snow huts and whatever else you could think of to do with snow.

My mom and dad were seventeen when they had me. Four years later my brother followed. When he was born I had to bite him just to make sure he was real. I have been told that we were very poor back then, I didn't know any different. My dad had a job doing construction and my mom didn't work. Apparently food for us was few and far between. I was forced to share my baby food with my mom and all my dad had for his lunch was a couple of slices of bread.

We lived in an old red brick farm house that my great Uncle Butch rented to my parents for fifty dollars a month. The house was built in 1898 and sat at the end of a dirt lane. There was an old metal barn that sat behind the house. It was only being used to store tractors and house the occasional barn owl. The house was surrounded by an old wire fence that had grape vines intertwined throughout the wire. In front of the house sat a six foot tall tree. I think it had been there since the house was built. Long sticks grew up from the ground, about fifty of them, in a circle extending upward and out and at the top were bundles of tiny white flowers. They looked like snowballs and smelled like candy. When the petals would fall off it looked like it was snowing. Someone had made an attempt to update the inside of the home. The walls in the living room were covered with faux wood paneling and the carpet was green shag. The house was heated by a wood burning stove in the front room. It was a two bedroom house and my brother and I had to share a room. Our room was an addition to the old house and the walls were cinderblock with a faded green and white wallpaper covering. Someone had given us old bunk beds to use. My bunk was covered with a green and white holly hobby quilt my Grandma had tied for my birthday that I still have to this day. We didn't have much. Everything we did have was given to us from friends and family. We didn't go to public swimming pools. Every summer we got irrigation water for the fields. The water would flood our front yard. We would put on our suits and run and slide through the water for hours, forging through the mosquito

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bites. In the end we were covered with grass and dirt but we still didn't want it to end and we couldn't wait until next week when the irrigation water would come again. The water was beneficial for my father as well. When the grass was flooded, out came the night crawlers and that began the second phase of our playtime; seeing how may worms we could gather up for dad to use for fishing. We didn't have play dates or go to the park. We didn't have neighbor kids either so our front yard was our playground. One Easter we got a swing set. Oh it was magnificent! It was an aluminum A-frame, painted white with maroon stripes. It consisted of a slide, two swings and a two seated basket that you could maneuver back and forth. You could swing for hours and never tire. From time to time it would house wasps and box elder bugs but if you left them alone they would pay you the same respect. When my brother came of speaking age, he would hop on the swing and sing "On the road again, I just can't wait to just get back on that road again" for hours and hours