Walking to school

Dad had been injured and was laid up at the University of Utah hospital for a very long time. Since mom wasn't going to leave him for any length of time we stayed at grandma's house in Bountiful, Utah. Since it was during the school year (just after Halloween) mom went and signed us all up for school. My older sister Chelly was in fifth grade, I was in third grade, my younger brother Sam was in first grade and my younger, younger brother was in afternoon kindergarten. The school was about half a mile away from grandma's house so we had to walk to school. The school was an old red brick building multiple stories tall with a huge smokestack on one side of the building. Most of these older buildings were heated using boilers. Boilers are basically what they imply, huge tanks of water are heated to boiling and the steam is then transferred to pipes through the building and into radiators in the individual classrooms. To heat up a room the radiators needed to be opened and then the hot steam would circulate through the pipes. The pipes would get hot and that in turn would heat up the room. I don't think there was any way to actually regulate how hot a room got when the radiators were on it just got hot. The desks in the room closest to the radiators would usually get too hot and the desks furthest away would usually be too cold. I don't think that the middle of the room was any better. The one benefit to a radiator was that when we came in from recess and the cold or snow we could easily dry all of our coats and gloves and hats as they would be hung on top of the radiators. I did not enjoy the school. Chelly did not enjoy school. Sam did not enjoy school. Matthew liked school. For me school was not fun because we had been put into the school in the middle of the year. I was new and everyone else already had friends. I was temporary. Once dad recovered we would go back to our home in Duchesne, Utah. All of this contributed to my lack of desire to do much of anything at school. The teacher tried to be helpful but I was not used to her rules or way of teaching. My family was still trying to get back to a semblance of normality with dad still at the hospital and us living out of suitcases. Grandma's house was always fun to visit but living there was difficult. Visiting dad in the hospital was also difficult. A head injury like my dads had no other visible effects. He had a small bandage on his head but his body functioned like normal he could walk, move his arms and legs, speak and hear us just fine but he could not leave the hospital. He had to stay so that his brain could heal and to make sure there were no other places where blood had pooled after the injury. Dad eventually recovered in every way except for the loss of his sense of smell, that has been gone ever since. It was winter time and Bountiful gets a lot of snow. We would wake up to six or ten or even fourteen inches of snow and sometimes more. Even with all of the snow the schools did not close and we still had to walk. We would leave the house and Chelly would lead the way. We would make a trail out of the front door and across the front yard. We did not try to stay on sidewalks as most were not cleared anyway. We created our own paths as we walked towards the church that was across the street from grandma's house. We went through the parking lot of the church down the street two blocks and turned right. We walked next to a city park for three blocks and turned left and the school was just a half block in on the right hand side of the street. Our jeans would be wet up to our knees, our shoes and socks or our boots and socks would be wet, our gloves would be frozen and we probably looked like Eskimos. We bonded to the snow just as much as we bonded to each other. Every day we got up and walked to school.

Shoveling Snow

I love the snow. I know I have said it before but I really do enjoy everything about snow. When I was a teenager, I worked as a Janitor for Snow College. I had started at thirteen with my older sister. We went into work every night from ten til midnight even on school nights. My sister and I were each assigned a building to clean. I was responsible for the science building with all of its taxidermied animals in a case along the wall of the main floor. The science building was three stories tall and my job was to start at the top and sweep out all of the classrooms to the hallway, sweep all of the hallways and then mop the hallways. Along with this I had to wipe down all of the chalk boards, take out the trash from all of the receptacles (professors would leave their trash bins outside of their office doors in the hall), and clean and restock all of the bathrooms. The chalk boards had six surfaces that would slide up and down as they were used. Occasionally there would be a note on one of the boards to please not erase as it was a math proof that was being solved. Those proofs usually took up three or four of the surfaces available. I constantly wondered what they were trying to solve as I was only thirteen and I didn't understand these advanced equations. When I got older I would come to loath these proofs. A teacher could assign for homework just one or two problems and it would take hours to complete. As I got older I continued to be a janitor and come in every night but in the winter time I was asked to work a little more. The daily janitorial staff showed up to work around six every morning but if it snowed they would show up at four in the morning. The main janitor had a list of additional workers needed to shovel the snow. I and my two younger brothers became a crew. My mom would get a call about four thirty in the morning and she would come in and wake us up. We all shared a bedroom so it was an easy thing to do. We would all get up and dressed then go down stairs and grab our coats, gloves and hats and head out the door. We were usually assigned to work the west campus of the college so we would start walking the four blocks to get to our area. We were asked to show up by five and clear the sidewalks. We never had any supervision and we always worked together. We grabbed the shovels from where they would leave them next to the building and get to work. If there was only an inch or two the work went quickly with each of us taking a walkway and just pushing the snow to the other end. There were hundreds of yards of sidewalk on the west campus so if we were feeling spry we would even run as we pushed the snow. If there were more than three inches, and sometimes we had more than a foot of snow, we would walk together one in front of the other. I would usually be last in line. The first brother would clear the middle of the sidewalk and the other brother and myself would push the snow off of the edges of the walk at an angle. This was always easiest when there was too much snow to do the walk on ones own. Sometimes it was still snowing when we started so we would shovel once in one direction and then have to come back the other direction and shovel again. If the snow was really bad or if they needed additional help on the main campus they would let us know and we would walk the five blocks up to the main campus and we would shovel up there. It was a lot harder at the main campus because there were a lot more stairs that had to be shoveled. To do the stairs one would start at the top and work down to the bottom. The challenge was that as one got closer to the bottom of the stairs the more snow one was having to shovel. Once the two hours were up we were usually sweating in our coats from all of the work and starving from the lack of breakfast. with two hours of work in we would trudge back home we had to get our own driveway shoveled before we went inside to eat.

Foxes

I love the snow. Even snow in March or April. I love to play in the snow, to sled, tube, snowboard, ski, throw, build, eat, and everything else that can be done with snow. Growing up in a small town in rural Utah it was easy to enjoy the simple pleasure that snow brought. School was never cancelled because of snow. In elementary school we were allowed to play outside during recess in the snow. We would build some of the biggest snowballs one could imagine. Because the fields were so big and devoid of trees or other objects that might impede the ability to roll the snow, one could easily roll a ball of snow bigger and taller than even the tallest student on the field. Sometimes it would take two or three or even four people to push the mountain of snow around the field but we did it. Some of those snowballs would still be in the field well into April. At home we would make forts out of snow and have snowball fights with all of the neighbor kids. We never really had teams usually it was one against everybody else but occasionally we would end up with two or three teams battling each other. We always got wet and cold but we didn't care. Sometimes I would lose a glove or mitten when throwing the snowballs because the snow would stick to the ice and snow on the glove. There were occasions when we would lose a glove to a snowball or a snowman and never see it again until the snow melted. One of the games we loved to play in the snow was foxes. This was a game made for the snow. To set up the game of foxes first you had to have snow. First the field has to be created. This is done by walking in a large circle and shuffling the feet to kick up the snow and make a deep track. When the circle is done you make a cross from one side of the circle to the other. Once this cross is made a smaller circle is made at the center of the cross. The snow is all trampled down in that area and another smaller area is created at the end of one of the crosses. The center is where the person that is the fox starts and the place at the bottom of the cross outside the circle is the rabbits den. The game begins and the rabbits run around the circle. There is no place that is off limits but the rabbits and the foxes must stay on the created paths at all times. The fox chases the rabbits and converts them from rabbits to foxes if they are touched. The only safe zone is the rabbits den but as we played we made sure that a time limit was added as to how long one could spend in the rabbits den. The last one to be caught became the first fox of the new game. I with my older sister and two younger brothers and younger sister could play for hours. Running around in the snow being chased by the fox, trying to stay upright while running the circle. Playing with the fox by going into the middle of the circle and waiting. We would slip and slide, jump and dive around in the snow. Our jeans would be completely soaked by the time the games were finished. I think the only thing that would bring us inside from our game was mom calling us for dinner and even then we would protest that the game wasn't done yet and try to get another ten minutes in before she called again. Now the other rule in the house was that we were supposed to come in the front door after getting all wet because we had a mud room in between the front door and another door into the house complete with a closet to hold up all of the coats and mittens and gloves and boots. We made it most of the time but dad would usually have to come in and yell at us to clean up the piles of coats and boots and gloves and hats and scarves from the floor of the closet or even the floor of the mud room. The piles could get so high that the door to the closet would not shut or the door to the house which opened inward would not open because there were too many things on the floor. Naturally when we were called in from the back door we came into the house using the back door which almost always meant a trail of wet coats, gloves, and hats as we took them off along with the melting snow from the back door, through the TV room and living room into the dining room and kitchen. With red cheeks and dripping noses we came to the table ready to pray and eat.

Injury

I was nine years old when dad had an accident. He was helping a friend build a new house. The basement had just finished curing. Early one Saturday morning dad went up to help start getting the floor joists set for the first floor. Mom and all of the kids were going to come up later and have lunch together. Dad was walking across a two by twelve board that was laying lengthwise above the basement when the board broke. Dad fell about ten feet and landed on his head. Now I had been told many times that the hardest thing a Grindstaff had was his head. I guess that dad was just trying to prove the point. The place where dad was working was just a few minutes from town and Mom and us kids were on the road on our way to the place when we heard the ambulance. Of course as kids we were all curious and excited because it was not every day that one saw the lights and heard the sirens of an ambulance. It was headed in the opposite direction of where we were headed. We arrived at our destination and found our friends mom was crying. In short order so was my mom. We heard the tale but none of us knew how badly dad had been injured. Being nine, I did not understand the severity of much of anything. The events of that day are still blurry. I think mom went after the ambulance and I think that we went with her. Dad had been taken to the closest hospital in Roosevelt, Utah but because of the nature of the trauma to his head they could not help him. There was a helicopter arriving shortly from Salt Lake and dad would be life lighted to the University of Utah medical center. Mom could not travel with him in the helicopter and she had five kids in tow anyway. The helicopter would go straight over the Uintah mountains and over the Wasatch mountains and right to the hospital. We were told later that dad was in and out of consciousness during his ride in the ambulance asking the first responders to please let him up and to please help him. They said he was very polite for one who had just had a very serious injury. Once mom found out where they were taking dad we all piled back in the car and drove. The drive to Salt Lake from Roosevelt is over three hours. It winds through many canyons and steep roads with even sharper corners. Mom has probably never driven so fast down these small canyon roads. I don't think we stopped for anything. Every curve flew by. Because of the time it took to get dad from the accident sight to the hospital and from there onto the helicopter it was dark by the time we arrived at the hospital at the University of Utah. Now this happened before cell phones. Before we left Mom had to make some phone calls. Mom had called grandma in Bountiful and told her what had happened and asked her to meet dad at the hospital. My uncle who lived with grandma also came with her to the hospital. I think Grandma made most of the other arrangements to take care of us once we arrived. An aunt who lived in the Salt Lake valley was informed and she met us at the hospital to take us to her house where we would spend the night. When we finally arrived at the hospital we found out only that dad had been taken right away to surgery to relieve the pressure of a blood clot or blood pressure to his brain. They did this by removing a quarter sized chunk of his skull. The surgery lasted a long time. We were sitting at our aunts house waiting for news. The two youngest brothers were asleep but Chely and I staid up watching TV because we wanted to know what was happening. A cousin of ours from mom's side of the family had also come up and was keeping us company. My aunt came back about 4 in the morning and let us know that Dad had come out of surgery and would recover. They did not know much else. Mom would be staying at the hospital with my sister, the baby at the time, and we would eventually move in with grandma in Bountiful, Utah.

Puppet Show

While we were living in Overland Park, Kansas the ward we lived in set up dinner groups to help everyone get to know others better. The groups changed every month and it gave us a chance to really get to know other families and gain new friends. The list was set up so that every month their was one family responsible for hosting the dinner at their home and the other two or three families would come over and usually bring something to share with the dinner. We had been to several dinner groups when it became our turn to host. We had one newly married couple who had moved in recently so that the husband could go to medical school at the University of Kansas. We also had an older widow that came to the house. We had a great meal I am sure, although I do not remember what we ate, and then it was our turn to share a gospel message. Maggie had made the plan with Patrick and Ella so I did not know what they were going to do. This meant that I was just as much a part of the audience as our three visitors. We sang a Primary song that the kids had been learning and said a prayer and then the kids got behind a small cardboard box to block them from view. Maggie then started to narrate a story and Patrick and Ella put puppets on their hands to act out the show. Their were a few times when they had the wrong puppet on their hands and they would slowly lower their hands to put the right ones on. Patrick and Ella put on a great show and through this small and simple puppet show they were able to bring the spirit into the room. The audience including me laughed and smiled and beamed with pride at the message they portrayed. Patrick and Ella really enjoy being the center of attention and they continue to be my center of attention.

Carlsbad Cavern

I was living in Bastrop, Texas and as a family we decided to drive back to Utah to see family and to ride the Slick Rock Trail in Moab, Utah. Well since we were driving we thought of places we could stop along the way. Now Texas is a huge state from east to west on I-10 one can drive for almost nine hundred miles and not leave the state. We planned on taking the I-10 out of Texas and that meant driving south towards San Antonio. We started out early one morning driving towards San Antonio on the back roads that took us towards San Marcos and Kyle. We knew these roads well because that is the way we went to get to the Stake Center or to the Temple. Now San Antonio sits about one third of the way through the state of Texas along the I-10 corridor. So we had a long way to drive. We decided that we were going to drive all day and get to Carlsbad, New Mexico and go through the Carlsbad Caverns the following day. The drive is long and after San Antonio there really aren't any big cities or anything to see along the way. There are hills, fields, sage brush, rocks, small stunted trees, and a lot of nothing else to look at. It is peaceful except for the constant hum of the traffic going both directions, the ever present semis pulling their loads across the state, and the threat of boredom at every straight line. The I-10 is so straight that sometimes it seems it would be easier to get a bar and brace the wheel then take a nap. One positive abut this stretch of road is that the speed limit is eighty so there is little worry of getting pulled over for speeding although there is the occasional car that comes speeding by doing ninety or more. We didn't follow the I-10 all the way into El Paso instead we took a small two lane road north some time after Fort Stockton. We went North for a while then west again and so on until we got to Carlsbad, New mexico. Once in Carlsbad we went looking for a place to stay for the night. Originally we were going to camp here but when we saw that the camping areas were on the other side of town away from the cavern we decided to get a hotel room with a pool. We went swimming that night and relaxed a bit before going to bed for the night. Carlsbad is higher in elevation than we expected and the weather was chilly. We did not bring long pants or jackets and we were told that the Carlsbad Cavern can be a little chilly. So we got up early the next morning and went to the local Walmart to get warmer clothing. The drive up to Carlsbad cavern is a gradual climb all the way to the top of a large plateau. It takes about thirty minutes to get to the visitor center and the start of the Cavern. Once at the visitor center we had to decide which trail we wanted to take. We decided on going right into the main entrance and taking the long way down. I wasn't paying much attention but found out later that there is an elevator that takes people right down into the main area of Carlsbad Cavern. We were part of the first group of the morning on the main trail. We went down and enjoyed the leisure pace that we set. Where the trail begins going into the mouth of the cave it is very steep so the trail is built with a lot of switchbacks and as one travels deeper into the cave the opening begins to get smaller and smaller and the light provided by the opening diminishes. As it gets darker there are lights placed along the trail to help the navigation but not enough to make it overbearing. Once at the bottom of the main entrance the trail travels along a small ridge that is probably the only time that the trail doesn't feel like it is going down. As one looks further back along this ridge there is a small sign that says back in the dark, "this part of the cave continues for a long way but is not accessible by tourists" or something to that effect. The reason it is inaccessible is because back in the dark, a darkness that can almost be felt bulging from the wide opening, is where the bats live. They say there are so many bats that the guano they produce is many feet deep on the cave floor. I hear it is quite a sight to see them as they leave the cave each night but we did not stay for the show. The trail continues down what seemed an endless trail. I was starting to get a little worried as I needed to find a bathroom and there was no where to go along the trail. There are many stalagtites and stalagmites that have grown into amazing shapes and colors. The trail is smooth and one can get right up next to these geological structures and take pictures. Just as I was getting desperate for a bathroom the trail comes to a room, or what I would call a room hundreds of feet deep in a cave. There, in this room, was a concession stand, gift shop and bathrooms. We all went and then took the shorter trail around this huge almost completely open room full of rocks and water and color. It is amazing to see what water can do to transfer minerals from one place to another. We had a great time down in Carlsbad Cavern and I was worried that we were going to have to take the same trail back up again when Maggie mentioned the elevators that I didn't know existed. We took the elevator.

Calamity Jane

My older sister always liked to participate in as many extra curricular activities as possible. She got to high school two years before I did and seemed to be involved in everything. She ran cross country, was in the school musical, played in the band and ran track at the end of the year. As a new freshman I wanted to do just as much as she was doing. I may have stepped on her toes a few times including running cross country with her and being a part of the school musical with her, I even ran track at the end of the school year. The school decided to do a production of Calamity Jane my freshman year. For me this musical involved dressing up in cowboy attire and singing and about love and beauty and dancing around at the local bar or farm (the scenes in the musical). Trying out consisted of showing up and being given a script to read over. After about fifteen minutes we were ushered onto the stage with a group of three or four other people trying out. We read the scene as we interpreted it and then were told that call backs would be listed on the office window the next day. I tried out and was sad when I did not get a main part. It was not obvious to me that juniors and seniors usually got those parts while freshman and sophomores got the crowd roles. Even though this was a musical we were not asked to sing. I was okay with not getting a main part because I was also wrestling so I had to manage the time I had available. At the first practice we learned how to do a simple shuffle step and started to learn a chorus piece from the musical. When the director heard me sing she asked me to sing a song that was to be performed in the bar scene. I tried it out and she liked it so much that she gave me that song as a solo. I was very excited about the opportunity but also a little afraid of what that meant. I would have to sing a solo in front of whatever crowd was present. My older sister was very supportive. She helped me practice my part and never laughed when I would miss a word. The high school orchestra played the music for the musical so I had to learn how to sing the melody without actually having it played. Orchestra's pieces seemed meant to add depth to the music and the song but not the melody. The orchestra director also helped everyone on stage by reciting the words to the songs and sometimes she would even recite the script. Well after two months of rehearsals the performances began. Our matinee was scheduled with the local middle school. They were bused over and sat according to class with teachers constantly telling the students to hush. There was a men's and women's dressing rooms on one side of the stage and all of us crammed in to change into costume. I was dressed in my cowboy attire which consisted of boots with spurs, jeans, old leather chaps that I borrowed from a friend, a long sleeve shirt, my grandpa's old leather vest, a red bandanna, and a hat. The director made all of the lead characters and me, because of my solo, wear stage makeup which consisted of a tan base on the face and neck and eye liner. I looked good! The musical started without a hitch we danced and sang and waited for our parts while repeating every one else's lines. When you hear the play over and over you tend to be able to repeat almost everything. Then my song was up. My solo is a song about a beautiful girl named Adalaid Adams. I sang all about her hair, eyes, cheeks, and other body parts. I sang her name various times as well. Coming into the second verse I forgot the words and stood their while the orchestra kept playing. My mind went totally blank and I stared out wondering what I should do. I looked out into the audience for what seemed an eternity when I remembered to look at the orchestra director. She was mouthing the words and one look down and I remembered my place and sang as if I had not missed anything. In all of the other performances I never forgot the words to the song. I still look good.

Capture the Flag

I was a young scout leader in Overland Park, Kansas and we went on monthly camp outs. Because we were in the city it would take an hour just to get out of town. This meant meeting at the church around six and loading up then heading out. We would arrive at camp around seven then it was time to set up the tents and other sleeping arrangements, getting a fire started and making the assignments for duties. Duties for scouts included; setting up tents, roping off the chopping area, getting the cooking area prepared and lighting the fire. In the suburbs of Kansas City lived a grandma of one of the scouts and mother to several adult members of our congregation. She had a large property complete with house and two large metal barns. One barn was full of old farm and work related implements and leftover gear from her husbands heating and cooling company. It had been filled to overflowing at least ten years before I saw it and no one ever attempted to clean it out. The other barn was sometimes used as a garage and had a few old tools and parts but the cement floor, about thirty feet by sixty feet, was cleared for us when we came to camp. The barns sat about one hundred feet apart on an angle with one slightly lower in elevation from the other. To the side of the full barn was a fire ring with logs and two by sixteen planks surrounding the fire ring used for benches. The scouts would set up the cooking tables behind these benches. On the cooking tables would be placed the five gallon water jug, a propane stove, all of the utensils, and all of the food. Usually the evening meal consisted of tin foil dinners. These were made by chopping up a bag of potatoes, carrots and onions and placing those on top of aluminum foil. A small ground meat patty was then placed on top of these vegetables and then covered with the foil. Once completely enclosed the foil wrapped food would go into the bottom of the fire where the coals would be hot enough but not to hot and then left for between thirty and fourty five minutes. With the fire going and food cooking it was time to play. Since it was usually dark by this time it was easy enough to set up the capture the flag game. The place we were staying in had a large fenced in field that was part of the property where we were camping. All of the scouts and several of the leaders would make their way up to the field and play. Capture the flag is a staple for all campers. Two teams are set and each have a t-shirt or rag that they use for their flag. The field is split into two halves one for each team. Each team places their flag in a hidden but visible location and each team selects a location for their jail. The game then begins with one flag protector staying near their teams flag to protect from the opposing team. This person needs to be fast because they chase and try to capture the opposing team. If a scout is in the opposing sides area, and is touched by the opposing team, he is escorted to the jail. They can not leave the jail area unless one of their teammates touches them or until the game ends. Each team is trying to get the other teams flag and bring it across to their side of the playing field. All of this being played in almost total darkness. The games can last minutes or hours depending on the area and how well each team works together. The game involves a lot of silence and then a lot of noise. Yelling is expected especially when one is in prison or when one finds out the location of the other teams flag. When the food is done everyone is ready to eat.

My Own Room

My older sister got married at the young age of seventeen. She was in love and that worked for her. I hoped that it meant me getting my own room. It didn't happen right away. The two youngest brothers moved into her room for a while because they needed to be close to Mom. Once the youngest brother was old enough to move out of the crib I was sure it was my turn to take that room over. I begged and pleaded. By this time I had another even younger sister. My Mom said that she was destined to move into that room when she was big enough to move out of the bassinet that was in her room. I didn't care I thought it would be great to have my own room. I shared a room with my two just younger than me brothers. They and I had spent plenty of time together. All of our underwear and socks were basically shared because when the laundry was done we couldn't tell them apart. No one had a different size waist and all of our feet were basically the same size so it was easiest just to buy it all in bulk. I wanted a way out of this arrangement. I turned seventeen and was a senior in high school when I made the move. The youngest two brothers had to move in with their older brothers and I moved in to my own room. This did not last long. My youngest sister moved in to the crib and I was again sharing a room. My sister was a fairly good sleeper. I would get in bed later than she and so I couldn't turn on the light for fear that I would wake her up. On the weekends when I could sleep in she would be up with the sun and pull herself up and then look at me and yell my name. This is how she would wake me up. Every time she woke up before me she would pull herself up and then yell my name. If I was still tired and wanted to sleep I would pick her up and walk her across the hall to my parents room, open up their door and drop her right inside the door. Then I would go back to bed. I shared a room with her for two years and as she grew she would put more words together. She would tell me stories and I would try to sleep. She would insist I listen. She would sing songs and jump on the crib or play with a doll or stuffed animal. I would try to sleep. She eventually won and I moved out to again share a room with other people while serving as a missionary. My younger brother just younger than me moved into the room that I had occupied and for months he was woken up to my youngest sister yelling my name.

Homework

When I first got married both my Wife and I were in college, she at BYU and I at UVU. We lived in a basement apartment below right off of the freeway overpass. We found the place on the wall at the Wilkinson Center on BYU campus right before we got married. The rent was three hundred twenty five dollars a month. I think combined income for us at the time was under one thousand a month. Maggie was working at the library on campus and I was starting as a Spanish teacher at the missionary training center. We moved most of our stuff into the apartment a week before the wedding. My Dad was helping us and while we were there he asked us what we were going to sleep on? I had not thought about it. Mom and Dad had always provided things like dressers and beds and everything else I had ever needed. I had lived in Paraguay for two years as a missionary, but again the beds and dressers and things were all provided. Dad took us to the local furniture store and we got probably the cheapest mattress and box springs they had. Luckily the frame came with it. We tied it to the top of my Dad's van and set it up only to realize that we probably would need sheets and blankets too. We picked those up a few days later. We got married and moved in two weeks later. I started school a week before my Wife. Homework was always easy to get done because I would just go to the library where my Wife worked and do it there. She usually worked the evening shift so I would come home make dinner and bring it to her at work. We had access to the staff lounge to eat even though she was just a student. I made some pretty great meals; macaroni and cheese, salad with dressing, tuna fish sandwiches, and sometimes I would do harder things like chicken and rice or spaghetti. On Saturdays we would walk down to the corner laundry mat and do our laundry. We didn't have a TV so we didn't just sit and watch anything together except the washers and dryers at the laundry mat. The doors were all glass and opened front ways. We would put our whites in one and darks in one right next to it. Put the soap in and shut the door. Once that was all set we put four quarters into the machine all lined up and pushed them into the machine. The machines would then turn on and start to spin. Now at the laundry mat we brought our homework while we waited but I was always distracted by the machines and their spinning. The machines would fill up with water and then slosh the cloths about, agitating the water and getting the soap all sudsy. Once this cycle was completed the machine would proceed to rinse and spin. I think there were three rinse and spin cycles each time the spin cycle stopped the machine would make a loud hissing noise as the brake engages to stop the spinning. Homework forgotten we would get a cart and take out all of the wet cloths and move to the dryers. This also meant changing seats. The seats in the laundry mat were plastic molded chairs screwed to a metal frame. The chairs were bright yellow or blue or red or green. Some of the chairs were cracked or broken but that really didn't make much of a difference. The chairs faced the washers and the dryers in neat little rows. We were never alone in the laundry mat. Their was always someone else there sometimes with little kids running around as well. Once we switched the laundry to the dryers we had to check the lint trap, clean it out and put more quarters into the machines. This time the machine had a counter that lit up every time a coin was put into the machine a quarter gave you fifteen minutes and so we usually put in four quarters and started the machines again. Again we would sit with the intent on doing homework but I would be distracted again by the spinning of the dryer. If a shirt had buttons it would make a clicking sound. If the cloths were light they would stay in the air longer than the rest as they went to the top and fell back down. Sometimes all of the cloths would get bunched up and roll together and other times they seemed to not want to be in contact with anything else. When the laundry was done we would fold it up and take it back home. I had a blue mesh laundry bag that said "just do it" on the front that we used to carry all of the laundry. I still had more homework to do.

Garden

My Mom and Dad always had a garden. While growing up I had various responsibilities with the garden. When I was young it involved not weeding the wrong plants from the garden. As I got older it meant helping to thin the carrots and beets. We always got to help plant the garden and it was a family affair to try to map out how the garden would grow that year. Sometimes the corn would go next to the back fence and sometimes it would be planted in rows along one side of the garden. The pumpkins and squash and zucchini usually got planted in mounds close to the corn because it would not hurt them to spread out into the corn. As I got even older I was responsible for using the tiller to get the ground ready for the work. The tiller was a four bladed machine that jumped and bucked when first being used every season. The ground was hard and did not want to be chewed up. It took hours of manhandling the machine just to make the first pass. The second pass was usually easier the challenge was to get it to stay in mostly straight lines and not get stuck digging one big hole. Keeping a tiller moving smoothly and in a straight line is a lot like playing egg on a trampoline with people jumping all around trying to break you open. Once the tilling was completed we had to rake out all of the bigger dirt clods and create our rows. We also had to remove the rocks that were churned up by the tiller. I never figured out how every year there were more rocks to get out of the garden, especially when we had done the same thing the year before in the same place. I think rocks multiply when no one is looking. With the rows ready and mounds built up we planted the garden. The garden would grow and we would be asked to weed. Mom would weed and we would watch or play catch with the football and every once in a while we would help weed. It is tedious work to weed a garden. Row upon row of weeds would grow and where they came from was always a mystery. We would start weeding the furrows and let mom do the tops of the rows. As the garden grew there was less a need to weed and more a need to maintain the garden. The garden needed to be watered often. At first it was easy just put the sprinkler on and move it every half an hour or so. As the garden grew taller the sprinkler would get blocked by the leaves of the plants and the tall corn so we would have to hold the hose and spray the garden. Holding the hose and spraying the garden was the most fun mainly because it gave me an opportunity to spray my brothers and sisters. I think more water ended up on my brothers and sisters then on the garden. Water fights would break out and we would be running with buckets and hoses and anything else that held water. This could last for hours or until someone started crying. The neighbors all joined in as well. Water balloons were sought after but because it took so long to fill them up the balloons became a liability. The hose was most sought after and if one had it for too long than phrases would be yelled out about it not being fair or you've had it too long. No one ever left a water fight dry and if the adults came into the picture well they got wet too. The pumpkins the squash and the zucchini all grew with very large frond leaves and their vines would get on to the grass. As we mowed the lawn we would have to skirt around the vines so as not to damage the plants. The huge flower blossoms of these plants were always fun to see. There would be bees buzzing around the garden pollinating everything they could find. The ants made tracks and hills everywhere and the grasshoppers would jump all over the garden. The scariest thing one would find in the garden were the dreaded tomato worm. These green monsters are about a dime size in diameter and two to three inches long. They eat the leaves and fruit off of the tomato plants thus aptly called tomato worm. They are ugly and when we would come to grab them half their body would raise up off the leaf or branch they were on like a cobra snake and open their mouths at us. The tomato worm has a very big mouth and it works the mandibles in a very menacing manner. I never saw a small tomato worm. I think they just pop out of wherever they came from at two or three inches long. The growing and harvesting season come with peas and beans first then peppers and tomatoes then cucumbers and zucchini. Some of these will produce three or more times in the season so picking can be a constant thing. The pumpkins and potatoes and corn are usually the last things picked. All of the produce is used or given away to the neighbors. Recipes are used for each new thing picked like new peas and baby potatoes or zucchini bread or toasted tomato sandwiches. Some of my favorites were when the corn was ripe and we would have corn on the cob with spaghetti squash or yellow squash fried with onions and cucumbers. When the garden was done producing or after the first hard freeze it was time to clean the garden up. We would start by digging a very large hole somewhere in the garden. This hole was about six feet long by three feet wide by three feet deep. Once the hole was dug we would all take turns getting into the hole and laying as if dead. Mom would take a picture and then it would be someone else's turn. Once the pictures were taken we would pull or dig up all of the plants, except the carrots and potatoes because they can handle the cold and stay in the ground. We would throw all of these plants into our hole and as it got full we would jump on it to smash it down. The corn stalks, when stacked, were very springy and we could jump on them and get really good bounces. Once all the garden waste was in the hole we buried it. This would compost and make the garden better next year. After all of that was done the tiller was brought out again and the ground was tilled up. Dad said this would make it easier next year but it never was.

Cows

My wife's parents keep cows in the pasture next to their house. It is a fenced in area about an acre or two. At any given time there are four or five cows running around. They also have chickens. The chickens and the cows get along fine and usually only talk to each other at the watering hole, a spigot that is about twenty feet away from the gate with a large tire placed in the ground to hold the water. The chickens are not as smart as the cows. The cows are always watching. They are constantly planning their escape from the confines of the fence. The cows will talk to my father-in-law but only seem to yell at me or anyone else as we enter their yard. IF you show so much as a little fear the cows will chase you around the yard. My wife has experienced this many times throughout the years and has had some very close encounters with the cows. One summer day while we were visiting, I went out with my father-in-law to feed the cows and chickens. It is always very important to close the gate behind oneself when entering the cows domain. I shut the gate and followed my father-in-law to the hay. I helped put it out for them and then it was time to feed the chickens. The chickens get the leftover food. My mother-in-law scrapes all of the leftover food into a size ten metal can called affectionately the chicken dish. When this is full the dish is taken out and spread out in the pasture for the chickens to eat. The cows sometimes like what comes out in the chicken dish as well so it is usually a race for whichever animal can get there the fastest. Having everyone fed we went back into the house carrying the empty chicken dish. I closed the gate behind me. The cows were watching. I didn't know the cows were watching. No sooner did I close the back door one cow was at the gate using its small horn to lift the latch I had just latched. The cow lifted the gate up and unlatched it. The gate swung open and the cow ran into the yard, free. the other cows started to follow but someone noticed that the cow had gotten loose and we ran back outside to corral the beast and get it back into the yard. I ran behind it while father-in-law tried to get it to come towards him. Nothing seemed to work. My wife, who does not like cows, stayed away and watched. Mother-in-law came out with a loaf of bread and started waving a slice at the cow. It turned and saw the bread. It was as if the cow and my mother-in-law connected. The cow made a bee line for my mother-in-law and the bread she held in her hand. She dropped the slice and then moved closer to the gate and waited. The cow at the slice on the ground then looked up for more. Finding my mother-in-law the cow went closer to the gate. The process repeated itself until the cow was back in the pasture with the other cows. The gate shut again. Father-in-law went and got some rope and a few nails. He put the nails in the bottom of the gate and attached the rope. Now the gate has to be opened by a latch and a rope. We shall see when the cow figures out this new mechanism.

Mardi Gras

So I moved my family to New Orleans for work. New Orleans is a wonderfully diverse city with some of the best restaurants, venues, and parks in the country. It is also home to the best Mardi Gras celebrations in the country. Not being from here I went to my first Mardi Gras not knowing what to expect. We showed up with some of those bag chairs one gets from Walmart and sat. It was a colder evening than we had anticipated so we had to do a lot of rubbing our hands and blowing our noses and we continued to wait. The police began to close off the roads and people moved to the middle of the crossing streets. We sat on the neutral ground across from a bank. Remember I am not from New Orleans and when everybody talked about the neutral ground I had no idea what they were talking about. The neutral ground is either the space between the cross traffic which usually has grass but where we were it was the street car tracks or the space between the sidewalk and the road also usually has grass and trees. Neutral because no one technically owns the space. A side note, when I first heard the word neutral ground I actually thought about the civil war and thought maybe people in New Orleans during the battles could go to the neutral ground if they were injured. It sounds silly now but that is what I thought first. The other thing that is odd about Mardi Gras is ladders. Again people told me all about how you take a ladder with you to the parade. These can actually be set up for days along the parade route and no one will take them. Most often on top of the ladders are attached a wooden box with a short rail on it. Little kids then sit in these boxes so they are out of the way from the crowds but are up high so people will throw things to them. Mom or Dad will stand behind them on the ladder to help. Some of these ladders have attached wheels to the boxes so it is really easy to wheel a ladder to and from the parade. The parade started at six thirty in the evening some two miles from where we were sitting. We were still cold. I got up frequently to stamp my feet and put my hands in pockets. There were street vendors that came around selling light up swords and hats and other trinkets. There were street vendors that sold candied apples and peanuts and cotton candy. All of these people were pushing or pulling some sort of shopping cart with various metal poles and mesh to hold all of their wares. The carts look like mountains of light and color. The people pulling them also look like a bundle of different colored lights. The crowds were about two deep on either side of the street. Still not really knowing what to expect the parade started to pass where we were. First are the Shriners who come on either motorcycles or little dune buggy type cars. They are loud and have strung LED lights on the, that blink and change color as they go. It seems that the Shriners are husband and wife teams. Husband driving and the wife throwing beads and candy. Then come the horses with caped and hooded men. These are usually throwing dubloons. These are the plastic or wood coins that are stamped with the name of the parade and the year and an emblem or something on either side. The floats start to arrive with queens and kings also throwing beads or dubloons. Interspersed through all of these floats are local bands, dancers and musicians of all types. When the larger floats arrive they are double deckers. This is where there are people standing at chin level and then others that are standing almost twelve feet above the road. This makes for a great time as they through beads, cups, trinkets, light up do-dads, and sometimes even garters or underwear. The parade is wonderful. The crowds are constantly yelling and dancing to the music passing by. There is not a quiet moment the entire time. As I hung one strand of beads after another around my neck I realized that I was getting heavy. Looking down I probably had fifty strands of all different kinds of beads. I unloaded and got some more. By the end of the parade with garbage, broken beads, and plastic bags thrown around the parade route, it was time to gather up and go home. It was eleven and the parade would not actually get to its end until well after midnight. We gathered up what became two bags full of beads each weighing in excess of forty pounds. All of this in the first night. Imagine what happened the next night.

Walk

I moved my family from a small neighborhood in Texas out to a ranch about 15 minutes from anywhere. There were neighbors but most of them just mooed about. The others were small houses or trailers. The owner of the ranch let me rent the place. The house was half a mile into the property and was set on two acres fenced in land. The other eighty six acres was tall pines and grass. The owner also leased this eighty six acres to a man who raised rodeo bulls. The rodeo bulls were nice enough. They mostly kept together and if we got too close would run away. The ranch next to this one had the classic Texas Longhorns and they were always social with the rodeo bulls. The two herds would gather together at the fence and have lunch and chat about this and that. The herds probably talked about us often as not seeing as how we were the first people on the property in quite some time. One day we were invited to a neighbors house that lived on the other side of the ranch. They told us that it would be faster to walk to their house than drive because one only had to walk across the back forty, ford a small creek and come up the hill. This seemed easy enough so we started off. My wife, my son who was ten, my daughter who was eight, and I left the house and started the walk down to the creek. This part of the walk was easy as there were old tire tracks leading down where the man who owned the rodeo bulls would drive to put hay in a hay ring during the winter. We got to the creek and jumped across. My son and Daughter needed a two steps to get over it so we found a rock and placed it in the middle of the creek for them. This accomplished we walked up the hill on the other side and promptly got lost. We went straight back to the fence and thought we must have to cross it. Now this is where my wife said what I should have listened too, "Are you sure this is the right way?" I jumped over the fence and up another small embankment and found myself swallowed up by trees. The trees were mainly young pines but there was some bamboo and live oak. All of these really scratch up the skin but I encouraged them to follow and so they did. We went into these woods and ended up going in the exact opposite direction of our neighbors house. I didn't know this and so we kept going. Half an hour into the woods with everybody angry with me we came to a clearing and then to the back of an elementary school. This was miles out of the way from where we should have been. Now knowing where we were I promptly took us back into the forest thinking that I could get us to our neighbors now that I knew where we were. Sadly this time the forest ended in a ravine about thirty feet almost straight down with a larger brook running below. The worst part was what should have taken fifteen minutes had now lasted an hour and a half. I walked closer to the ravine and could see through the trees to the other side and realized that it was my neighbors back yard. I knew this because I could see his kids playing in the back yard. The ravine was too steep for my wife, son, and daughter so we had to backtrack again and fifteen minutes later we finally arrived at the neighbors house. Dusty, hands with patches of tree sap, with twigs and leaves stuck in our hair we arrived. After the visit and playing with the kids it was time to go back. I explained that I did not know which way to go so our neighbors son offered to take us back. We went out his front door, down the street to a fence and a gate. We went through the gate and we turned to the left walked one hundred feet and then saw our footprints leading up the hill from the creek. We thanked him for his help and with glares on my back from my wife, son, and daughter went home in silence.

Dying Alone

High school was going to start soon and I being a new freshman wanted to play football. So I went to the first practice at the beginning of August, one month before school started. All we did was a lot of conditioning drills and stretches that first morning but there was more to come that night because we had practice twice a day for until school started. That afternoon we did the same except we were put into our different positions. Coach put me as a tight end to start practice. That day I also learned the rules that coach had set for the month before school started. Come late and plan on running after practice. Miss practice for any reason and it was the breakfast club. My family had a scheduled vacation to California right in the middle of August. I would miss one week of practice. I told coach and though this might get me out of the breakfast club as it wasn't my fault I had to go on vacation. It didn't work. He said when I returned to plan on joining the breakfast club. The vacation was great. We went to Disneyland again and had a lot of fun with our cousins that lived in Lancaster. I didn't think about football at all. I didn't have to get up early for practice. I didn't have to stay late for practice. I didn't have to lift weights or do drills or run wind sprints. I didn't have to remember pass routes or blocking responsibilities. Then I got back home and went to practice again. I was called out right away and told to stay after practice for the breakfast club. So I went to through two hours of practice drills and wind sprints included. Then came the dreaded breakfast club. There were four of us that had joined that day. I owed ten breakfast clubs for missing ten practices. The some owed two or three and one owed five. A breakfast club consists of the following; starting from the goal line run to the ten yard line and do ten push-ups, run to the twenty yard line and do ten push-ups, run to the thirty yard line and do ten push-ups all the way to the other end zone. This was one breakfast club one hundred yards and one hundred push ups. Coach gave each of us a choice to do as many as we wanted to do and we could return each day after practice to finish. The others with just two or three and even five said they would finish that day. So, me being the wise freshman, said I would do all ten that day. Once the commitment was made the coach blew the whistle for us to begin. The first one hundred yards was easy. The second hundred yards was easy. I thought I could easily do all ten that day one thousand yards and one thousand push ups broken up into ten yard increments seemed like a break every time I stopped to do the push ups. By the fourth one hundred yards with two of the four finished I realized that it was taking me longer to run ten yards. It was taking me longer to do ten push ups. The player with five to do had stopped for a moment and asked coach instead of doing ten push ups at each ten yard line if he could do one one handed push up. The coach agreed to his plan. I tried a one handed push up on the next ten yard marker but I couldn't do it. I was stuck with ten push ups at each stop. I pushed through the pain. I pushed through the weariness. By the time everyone else had finished I was only half way through. My arms shook with the excursion of each push up. I thought about giving up and coming back another day but I had committed to do all of it. I couldn't back down. When I finished eight the coach could tell I was exhausted and tried to give me an out. He said I did great and could come back tomorrow and finish the last two hundred yards. I wanted to stop. My body begged to stop. I was a wise freshman and I wanted to prove I could hold up my end of the bargain. I continued. The last two hundred yards are forgotten in the haze of coaches yelling, teammates yelling and me grunting my way through. When I finished I just laid on the goal line and asked for water. I was greeted with pats on the back and good jobs all around. I still had to come back to practice that evening and I didn't think I was going to be able to move. Luckily it rained so hard that afternoon that coach cancelled practice. I thought I was feeling better until I went to bed that night. Every muscle in my body started to tighten up. I had cramps in my legs and arms. My stomach was the worst. The muscles in my stomach were in so much pain that I thought I was going to die. At midnight I went into my parents room. I could not get comfortable. I ached everywhere. Mom had me sit on the rocking chair. That didn't help. Finally I went and grabbed my blanket and pillow and laid down on their floor. I slept fitfully on their floor. The next morning when I woke up to go back to practice my Mom asked me why I hadn't gone back to my bed. I calmly said. "I didn't want to die alone!"

Late nights

So my son was born with a small problem, he had reflux. What this meant for my wife and I was that he had to take medicine every 6 hours. This meant that every night if he didn't wake up on his own we had to wake him, give him the medicine and then get him to go back to sleep. This was a small torture but one that we could handle. After about eight months he no longer needed to take the medicine. We were elated that we could finally try to get on a regular sleep schedule. The first night we got him to bed at close to the usual time but then he woke up almost exactly at the six hour mark we had become so used to. We did the usual thing changed the diaper, fed him and then put him back to bed. He would have none of it. Once awake we did have a routine of getting the medicine and making sure that we waited about fifteen minutes before putting him down again. We did not wait fifteen minutes. How could we possibly put him back down after just a few minutes. He did not like it. Over the next six months He would wake up and cry for one of us to come. We would lay him back down and sing a lullaby and then quietly go back to our bed. once we left his sight he would cry again. We would return sing again and leave thinking that he was asleep as his eyes were closed and his breathing was deep. This was a ploy. His little ears were so sensitive that when we walked out the threshold of his door it was like an alarm went off. He was up and ready for war. The game became more difficult as this continued so we improved our methods of dealing with the situation. First we would let him cry longer. That didn't work. Then we would come into his room lay him back down and run back to bed. That didn't work. Then we tried to sing really quickly. No dice. We would sing then crawl out the door. He still caught us. Finally we would end up yelling at the walls grabbing a blanket and crashing on the floor and we would wait for him to fall asleep. Usually we fell asleep before he did.

Fishing

We were friends with our back yard neighbors. It was pretty amazing the family that lived behind us had a daughter that was the same age as my older sister and a son that was my age among other children over there. The funny thing was that our front yard neighbors, the ones that lived across the street, also had a daughter the same age as my older sister and a son my age. What was even more amazing is that at one point in time while living in this house their were seven children at our house, seven at the back yard neighbors house and seven at the house across the street. The neighbors in the back yard's dad was blind. He had lost his sight when he was nineteen or twenty. He was cleaning a sink out with very strong chemicals when it splashed back into his eyes. Over the next twenty four hours the chemical ate his eyes. When I first met him I was a little scared. My friend warned me that I had to introduce myself when I came in so he knew that I was there. My Friends dad had a system for everything. When he had cash he folded corners a certain way so he knew what denomination they were. Whenever he handed money to his kids he would put a bill in their hand and they would repeat what the denomination was back to him. He ran a sausage stand at the local rodeo and while his kids and I helped him he would accept people's money with ease and trust that what they handed him was correct. One of his favorite things to do was fish. He would go as often as he could. We knew when he wanted to go fishing because he would have us digging for worms in the back yard. He eventually set up a small electric fence type system. One would put these spikes in the ground that were all wired together and then plug it in and wait. For some reason the electricity that was being sent into the ground irritated the earthworms and they would come to the surface. We would collect the worms into cups with dirt already in it. Once we had thirty or forty we would know we could go. My friends dad could string a line tie on a hook and bait it faster than we with eyes could. His oldest son would drive us up the canyon with us bouncing around in the back of a huge van with all of our tackle. Once we arrived their dad would set up a chair get his poll ready and cast it into the lake. He could not see his bobber. He could not see our lines also in the water and yet he cast better than all of us. Once the line was set he put one finger on the line and waited. Maybe he was more patient than us. Maybe he was just a better fisherman than us. I don't really know which but he caught more fish than all of us.

Straight lines

My Mom's Mom, Grandma, had a huge yard with an even larger garden. The garden was about 3 acres. Each spring Grandpa would prepare the ground for planing using an old tractor and plow. Once the garden was all plowed up he would create almost perfectly straight rows ready for planting. We had fun watching Grandpa drive his tractor and occasionally we would ride with him while he did the work. The garden was the shape of a large letter L that went around the walnut tree and an old chicken coop that didn't have any chickens in it anymore, just old tools and other farm implements. There was a trail that I could take from the walnut tree to the chicken coop opposite to the garden. This was lined with small poplar trees and the back fences of several neighbors houses. Grandpa also let the grass grow long and tall along this trail. With the garden ready to plant grandma would come out with her bucket of seeds and begin to plant the garden. The back part of the garden was usually filled with corn and Grandpa would plant that. The potatoes would be next and he planted those as well. Grandma planted everything else. She planted the carrots, beets, tomatoes, onions, radishes, turnips, peppers and many other fruits and vegetables. She had rhubarb and asparagus that were planted along the ditch and that grew every year without much need of help from her. With the planting done grandpa would pull out the block of wood at the front of the house that blocked the water from coming down the ditch and then my uncles, cousins and siblings would all help corral the water in the ditch. The ditch started at the front of the house then went down the side of the house by the cherry tree and then instead of going straight down to the garden turned again and went behind the house. The ditch made something of the letter S shape as it continued down the other side of the yard to the back of the grass and then into the garden. The critical thing for us was to make sure that the water followed the path of the ditch. If it overflowed the banks of the ditch the garden would not get enough water. I would take my shoes off and stand in the middle of the ditch waiting for the first trickle of water that came. At the front of the house when the wood was first move to divert the water to Grandpa's ditch the water came fast and furious to find its new banks but as it slowly meandered around the house it slowed while it built the momentum behind it. It would start with just a trickle around the toes and I and my cousins and siblings all would watch it come. Sometimes we would run with the water and watch as it slowly came forward. Other times we would stand in the middle of the ditch and feel it first on our toes and feet then wait until it steadily rose to our ankles and knees. When it was knee high we new that it was flowing well and we needed to move to help get it down all of the rows of the garden. Grandpa and my Uncles all had shovels and would stand by each row and guide the water down the trenches. Opening up channels just enough to keep the water flowing all the way across the front of the garden. The usually wore knee high rubber boots to keep from getting wet. I never thought about ever wearing rubber boots because I always thought the purpose was to get my feet wet. They of course had to work all the way down the rows and to the back of the garden to make sure that it all got wet. We came every week to help with this project. As the garden started to grow Grandpa noticed that all of the rows Grandma hand planted were not in straight lines. They curved this was and that way with no rhyme or reason to their course. He Asked Grandma why they were so crooked and she just said that it was the way they ended up. Now some vegetables are planted early like peas, carrots and beans. Some are planted later to avoid being killed by a late frost like tomatoes and peppers. So with the few rows already planted so crooked Grandpa had a plan. When it was time to plant the other vegetables, Grandpa went out and put two stakes in the ground on each row to be planted one for each end. He then tied a string to each end and told Grandma that the string would guide her and the rows of vegetables would be straight. Well he thought this plan was the best ever devised and Grandma agreed to follow the plan. She went out one day to plant the rest of the garden using the string and as a guide and began. Grandpa came out to watch and see if the line worked. All he could do was laugh. Grandma followed the line as directed but did not notice that while she knelt or sat to plant the rows she would push the string with her knees or elbows one direction or another. The lines were never straight and he never strung the garden that way again.

The porch

I have two children. When both were very small we lived in a house with a lot of stairs. There were stairs that went up and stairs that went down and sometimes they switched. The up stairs became the down stairs and the down stairs became the up stairs. The inside of the house had four levels. On the top floor were three bedrooms. On the next level was a front room, kitchen and dining room. The next floor was a large family room that was shaped like the letter L, a bathroom that was also the laundry room which was also the way to get to the garage. The basement stairs landed in a small room and on the sides of this were a storage room, a bedroom and the utility closet with the, heater, water heater and a water softener that we did not use. Stairs were a natural part of our daily life. Up the stairs to get a drink. Down the stairs to watch TV. Down the stairs to get to the computer. Up the stairs to go to bed. The Porch leading out the front door had stairs that led to the front yard and the front yard sloped down to the road. The day started as any other spring Sunday with sun shining through the windows. The beauty of the trees and yard the greenest it will be before summer comes. The birds chirping in the trees and on the power lines in front of the house. Inside the battle raged. Getting a two and a half year old and a six month old ready for church is war. Did they eat enough before getting their cloths on? Are their diapers changed? Yes but one needs changing again. Pull up the pants and put the clip on tie under the collar. Don't pull the tie off. Put tie back on. Get tights up over the padding of the diaper. Put a cute bow in the hair. Don't pull bow off hair. Put bow back on. Then because it was such a nice day we are going to walk to church. The church is only a few blocks away. We have the stroller ready for two and a half year old and I will carry six month old. We get to the door, open it and promptly realize we forgot something. Snacks. I retrieve the snacks put them in the diaper bag and open the front door. Approaching the stairs I take the first step and trip. I have six month old in my arms. What am I going to do? Slow motion fall, I spin in mid air, go over the railing and land flat on my back. the wind was knocked out of me, I struggle to breathe and try to make sure six month old is OK. Six month old loved the ride.

Dishes

In any house there is a certain level of dirty dishes in the sink, on the counter and sometimes left on the table. If one has a dishwasher the task is supposed to be relatively easy, rinse the dishes, put them in the dishwasher, add soap, and press the start button. In our house we had a nice dishwasher and plenty of hands to help with the dishes but it was never as easy as I just described. My Mom thought it would be wise to pair us up with another sibling to make the dishes easier for all of us and more fair. When it was our turn to do the dishes we would call which tasks we wanted. Unloading the clean dishes, clearing the table, putting the food away, clearing the counters, rinsing the dirty dishes, putting the dishes in the dishwasher, wiping the table, wiping the counters, and finally sweeping the floor. I put them all out there because we could make doing the dishes the most complicated and time consuming projects ever invented. I was paired with my younger brother. My older sister was paired with my younger younger brother. The other siblings in the house were deemed too young to participate in this torture. Younger brother and I would start soon after everyone had left the dining room. This would be followed by yelling at other siblings who had left their dishes on the table. If they did not come back to clear their dishes we would yell at Mom to make them come back. Sometimes she would make them come back and other times Mom would yell back and say that we should just clear it instead of yelling. This would easily help us stall the actual work by five minutes. Then came the race. If I could get to the dishwasher first I could unload it. This was far easier than clearing the table because if you cleared the table then you almost always had to wipe the table. The table was huge. It had to be to seat seven then eight all the way up to eleven. I think the table groaned with the weight that we placed on it. The chairs were a rag tag fair of various sizes and heights and were also in various states of repair. Missing slats in the backs or wobbly legs made sitting at the table quite an adventure. If younger brother was ahead of me on the race to the dishwasher I would tackle him. Easy as that except that would then turn into a wrestling match. In my house we never threw punches. We just wrestled. On the ground we would roll back and forth blocking arms and legs from moving and using our weight for advantage. Mom would yell at us to stop all the racket and get back to work. The first yell never worked. The second might have pushed us a little. The third was usually accompanied by a visit. We would stop until she went around the corner again. Now twenty or thirty minutes had gone by and the dishes were no closer to being done. When one of us were hurt enough to start crying the wrestling stopped, usually with another threat from Mom. Back to work we went on those dishes. Going to the dishwasher to empty while younger brother cleared the table and put the food away, I quickly put everything in its place. Younger brother would yell for Mom about what container to use for the leftovers. I would clear the counters and then we would eventually end up at the sink. Now one would stand next to the sink and the other would stand next to the dishwasher. A quick rinse and the dishes went into the dishwasher. The one by the dishwasher was the judge and jury. If I thought the dish still too dirty or food too stuck on for the dishwasher I sent it back. This again caused much arguing and lamentations. Fifty minutes after dinner the dishes were mostly done. If there was a big pot used that inevitably ended up with soap and hot water to soak. With the dishes completed and the counters and tables wiped sweeping was the last task. Usually this meant both of us would leave the kitchen and report to Mom, DONE. She would ask us about wiping the tables, check. She would ask about wiping the counters, check. She would ask about the tray on the high chair...not checked. See we always tried to avoid that. It was the dirtiest thing in the entire kitchen. I left it off the initial list on purpose hoping even now to forget that awful mess. My younger brother and I would hang our heads and say no. We would walk back to the kitchen and clean the tray and wipe down the high chair. Now the easiest way to clean this tray was to use the spray hose that most kitchen sinks have. We would pull this hose out and start our task. The water bounced everywhere. Occasionally the water would accidentally get on my younger brother. I never figured out how he could get so wet. Anyway the tray and the high chair clean we would report back to Mom. Checklist continues until the did you sweep the floor. This is where speaking the fastest is best, That was his job! It never worked. We both went back in again one would sweep while the other would hold the dustpan. We put that in the garbage and returned. Dad got in a final question, Did you take out the trash? We of course hadn't and one of us had to go back. Dishes finally done after an hour and a half. Now for desert...