Baseball

I was small and my older sister was big. We had friends in the neighborhood who would come and play with us and we occasionally had a game where all of us played together. Baseball was one of these. We didn't have a bat so we used a piece of wood that was mostly round. My sister or one of her friends put tape on one end so we knew which end to hold and so we wouldn't get splinters. We had a great time pitching, catching, swinging, and sometimes even hitting. The bases were not regulation as we used mostly landmarks in the yard as bases, a rock for first, a tree for second and a hole in the ground for third, and home was a welcome mat that we pulled from the porch. As the game wore on the stick became more slippery as the tape became more worn down. My sister was the catcher and I was up to hit. I looked at the first pitch but I didn't swing, strike one. I looked at the second pitch but as it was over my head I didn't swing, strike two. I saw the next pitch coming a wonderful pitch right over the base, I swung the bat, connected with the ball and was elated as the ball flew into the outfield. However in my excitement and in my strong back swing I let go of the bat over my shoulder to start running for first. The bat connected with my sisters lip and she let out a howl of pain as she fell to the ground. I was sorry that the bat had hit her but I was more sorry when she said that I did it on purpose. I told her I didn't mean to. Needless to say the game was over as everyone gathered around to help my sister I was left with a great two hitter but no runs scored. My Mom gave my sister a washcloth with ice in it to slow the swelling. She just glared at me over the top of that cloth and was still whimpering a little because of the pain when Mom and Dad said we could go to McDonald's for lunch. She cheered, I cheered, even my younger brothers cheered. We went and ate and my older sister told Mom that she did not think it fair that even though I had caused the pain I still got to enjoy the pleasure of McDonald's. My sister lost the washcloth at the McDonald's.

Purple Hands

My Mom decided she was going to juice concord grapes. She did not have a fancy press or a way of easily getting the seeds out of the grapes. It would probably have taken too much time to get the seeds out of the grapes anyway. Mom had a lot of concord grapes to try and juice and no help from my older sister or me, and especially no help from my two younger brothers. So Mom sent us off to play and got to work. First she got the broom and mop. I know these don't seem very useful when you are trying to make grape juice but Mom had a plan. Back to the mop and broom, she tied some white towels or material from the middle of one to the middle of the other. This created a catch of about 12 inches and inside this she place the grapes. Sitting on a chair Mom put the grapes that were in the cloth or towel thing and began to squeeze the grapes. I almost forgot, second, Mom had a large five gallon bucket set between her legs. As she squeezed the grapes the juice began to come out of the cloth and drip into the bucket. As she squeezed her hands began to change color. At first it was a light blue tint, but as she continued to work the hue became darker and darker until her hands were a deep purple. Now as she squeezed the grapes she used the mop and broom to spin the cloth tighter. Mom would stand and spin one side a crank or two and then the other side the same. I am sure that this system sped up the process considerably. Well there she sat all morning as my older sister and I would come by and watch in amazement as the juice dripped deliciously off of the cloth and into the bucket. I am pretty sure that my younger brother's cloths became a little purple because of his need for a diaper change or a drink. I don't remember how many bottles of grape juice that mom put away that day but I know that her hands were purple for weeks.

Snow

As my family grew from one to two and from two to three and then from three to four, my Mom and Dad were left to wonder some days what to do with all of us. Especially on snowy days. We had a bike or two and a trike or two just enough for each of us to ride them. In the summer time it is expected that we would be out riding the bikes and trikes but in the winter time wouldn't it be to snowy and wet? It had snowed about 6 inches overnight, that was almost to my knees and we, my sister and two younger brothers, wanted to go outside to play. Mom bundled us all up with our coats, hats, mittens and boots and sent us out into the white bliss that awaited us. We spent some time just jumping in it and running in it and throwing it and eating it. With our noses dripping and our cheeks a bright red we all decided it would be great to get out our bikes and ride. The bikes were all thrown together underneath the porch at the back of the house and a little frozen together. We got them apart and began to ride. The snow was wet and deep. After a few falls and slips from the two wheeled bikes we got used to the snow and began to gain speed. What we didn't expect was the snow to start sticking to our tires. Pretty soon after we had started we had inches of snow and dirt stuck to our tires. The back tires of the trikes just kept getting thicker and thicker because there was nothing to rub against to brush it off. The two wheeled bikes would get enough snow to touch the top of the forks and then it would scrape off. We spent hours riding those bikes in the cold and snow. My Mom thought that it was so ingenious she had to come out and take our picture. Content after the long day out in the snow we came in the house, dropped all of our wet coats, hats, mittens and boots on the floor and went up stairs to enjoy hot chocolate and marshmallows.

Snow Globes

When I was three and a half I had a brother who was almost one. He knew how to crawl and I am sure I was always nice to him. It was Christmas and we had received several snow globes. I had also received a wooden mallet that came with a toy that had colored pegs that one would hit with the mallet and push them to the other side then turn it over and do it again. I think that my parents underestimated how much of a weapon a wooden mallet could be. I may have used the mallet to defend myself from my older sister who was almost six. She ruled with an iron fist in our home. I would even have to give up my seat at the dinner table if she wanted it, or my favorite colored cup if she were to see it first. Now back to the snow globes. Soon after Christmas I wanted to know how snow globes worked. I really enjoyed shaking them and watching the snow fall and even at three and a half I probably knew what was inside but I wanted to be sure. So instead of me getting into trouble for breaking something I knew I shouldn't I enlisted the help of the younger brother. He was big enough to wield the wooden mallet and so I thought could help me on my quest of discovery. I got the snow globes from wherever they were and brought them to my younger brother. I did not even have to tell him what to to. He had the mallet and seemed to know exactly what I wanted. He started to smash them and I got to see all of the water rush out. My brother was brutal with the wooden mallet making short work of the deaths of all of the snow globes. I am sure that both of us were laughing menacingly as we watched the horror unfold. I am not sure if I felt any sadness at what my brother had done. I was sure that Mom could not be mad at me when I had not yielded the deadly weapon. So thinking nothing of what was going on I was not prepared to see Mom standing over us. She was of course very angry, so I redirected the anger by saying the smartest thing I could think of, "He did it!" For an instance I thought it might work. I tried to slowly walk away from the disaster I had just witnessed but I did not make it far. It was of course my wooden mallet and I did not let anyone else touch my wooden mallet. After such a high while in the act I had found a new low. I had disappointed my Mom yet again. Crying after my talking to, I left and soon forgot about the snow globes. As is often the case when one does something horrible forgetfulness is ones only true ability to overcome. Days later I found one of the broken snow globes and shook it, nothing happened, the snow did not move. The snow did not move! Why didn't it move! I took the globe to Mom who had fixed so many things before and pleaded with her to make it work. She refused. I pleaded some more. She still refused. I was soon reminded of what I had done to the snow globes and was left to mourn their loss.

Dirt

When I was one and a half my mother took my sister, who was three and a half, and me to my grandmothers house a short drive from home. She went inside to talk with grandma and let us play outside. We were familiar with the back yard and all that it had to offer and soon found our favorite thing to do; dig in the dirt. There was a particularly soft spot of dirt over next to the east fence of the yard, it was a little darker than the surrounding earth but that made it all the more fun to play with as we would mix the lighter dirt with the darker. Soon our little hands were dusty and dirty as we enjoyed the dirt. Our clothes, shoes and hair soon turned a dusty black. In my sister's hair it was less noticeable because she had dark hair already but I had very light hair and the black dust clung to the hair and made me look very different. While we were enjoying the digging and playing in the dirt Grandpa came out to check on us. He noticed where we were playing and chuckled. He decided since he was the responsible adult he would add to our fun. He went to the side of the house and grabbed the hose. He turned it on and kinked it so that it would not splash to much as he brought it over to where we were. Then he let the water out. We, my sister and I, loved the water and it made the dirt even more fun to play in. We made mud pies, mud castles, mud everything. Our hands got blacker, our clothes got blacker, even my sisters hair, which was already dark, got blacker. We had streaks of mud and dirt on our faces, the had water and mud in between our toes. It was wonderful! Grandpa just laughed. I do not know exactly how long we were playing in the dirt and mud but it was to our great dismay when Mom came out to check on us. She saw us and screamed in horror, as most mothers so often do when their children have been having fun, asking the all to familiar question, "What are you doing?" Needless to say even at one and a half and three and a half years old we knew that we had to think of something quickly otherwise our bottoms would soon be a little red. We just smiled and pointed to grandpa, who was plainly not trying to laugh. Grandpa had a little more fun as he doused us head to toe with the hose to get us a little cleaner and then Mom took us inside to take a bath. We did our best not to track the mud into grandma's house and I am pretty sure that we had to fill the tub twice because of how dirty the water was the first time. I learned years later that the dirt next to the east fence was so fine and black on top because that is where my grandparents put the coal they used to heat the house in the winter time.

Driving

So, I drive through the state of Louisiana a lot for work. Today I went up to Natchitoches. It is a small town with a long history, 300 years old and counting. It also has Northwestern State University which is a small university, one of many in the state. It seems every small town has a university or two. I just finished listening to "Treason" by Orson Scott Card. It was a very enjoyable book creating a world that is profoundly different and fun to picture. I am now listening to "The Hobbit".

New year

So does a new year automatically make me want to be a better person? Yes! Why is it that new years, new jobs or new addresses make me want to change, to be better or try harder? I think it is because inside me I want to, not because I have to, or convention says I need to do something new...I want to be better! So today I will be better. I will be happier, nicer, neater, more dedicated, open minded, and a bunch of other stuff. I will be a better version of me.