Eeyore

Most people's childhood pets are cats, dogs, guinea pigs (not sure why), and maybe turtles or birds. But for a few years, probably when I was around 8-10 years old, my favorite pet was our old stubborn mule. I think us three little kids (aka Angie, Brandon and Kim) thought that Eeyore, the mule, was ours. It was just our size and noone else gave her any attention. I'm pretty sure we didn't feel like we needed to get permission to "play" with her. Brandon, Kim and I would ride her all together. We didn't care to put a saddle on, just tied some old baling twine (in some awesome huge knots, the bigger the stronger right?) onto Eeyore's halter as the reigns, and off we went. Eeyore was pretty old, I think my mom's cousin gave her to us so she wouldn't die in their field, so she didn't REALLY like to be ridden, and being known as a stubborn mule, she got away with it. She would run underneath the big trees in the fields while we were riding her, and we knew it was so she could scrape us off. We ducked and did pretty good though. I think I remember tying a bucket of hay to her halter too so that she would hopefully be more willing to GO. One time I remember her taking off with all three of us on her and we all fell off, except someone's foot got caught in our baling twine reigns and got dragged a little ways. One time that makes me laugh is when we thought we should tie (again with baling twine and some awesome knots) the little red wagon to her so she could pull us around. We had our neighbor friends over to play with us too. So we loaded up the wagon and someone rode her, and I of course, because I was a bit bigger than the others, pulled her along. We headed out to the road and up and over our bike trails. Everything was fine, until as we crossed the road again and the wagon made it's loud noise rolling across the road, Eeyore took off again leaving everyone in the dust. The wagon tipped over and dumped everyone out and the friend fell off and I could hang on anymore. She just wanted to be left alone and dragged the wagon behind her all the way back to the corrall. Eeyore, of course, got way too old after a few years and had to go to the sale. Luckily some grandpa bought her for the grandkids and hopefully they got to enjoy playing with her too.

Shoes are recommended, but not necessary

So everytime I get a pedicure (like a whole 3 times), they scrape off all this callussed skin and then when I'm done my feet are soo sensitve when I walk barefoot. I hate it! I think I would rather have thick callusses than not be able to walk almost anywhere without shoes. I love being barefoot and I think it's because I probably spent at least half of the summer when I was little without shoes. I've even been known to walk thru the corral without shoes, gross I know, but not too bad when your feet are tough like mine...nothing gets thru them, not even germs! haha. So the only time I happened to step on a nail was when I was actually wearing shoes, and they sure didn't seem to help much. Maybe the only time I really wished I was wearing shoes was when I started over to the Tarzan and those dum dried up prickly bushes were everywhere. Oh, and if you do choose to go without shoes, don't walk on the railroad ties when it's hot outside, you'll have that very annoying tar stuck to the bottom of them for a few days!

I just got out of bed. It's past midnight, but my mind kept wandering and the place that I was led to was The Farm. There are so many stories and memories of that place. So many things I learned. Some of them were already making me laugh as I laid there. But I thought, Hmm, maybe I need to write these things down. I have kept a journal since I was given one at the age of 8, but there are so many things that an 8 year old can't quite describe and explain, and especially have the realization of the lessons that were to be learned while growing up. And what a better time to start my autobiography now, than when I'm 80 trying to remember these things. This may just be mostly a journal of my thoughts and memories and no one else will really read it, but maybe there will be some interested in the stories I have to tell. And maybe I can get the whole family in on this and we can laugh and share stories with eachother, and maybe even cry (poor pete). Haha, maybe.