August 25, 2004

Exploring my roots in rural Iowa....part 3

We lived out in BFE for only a few years, but that was all it took. After my brother's arrival when I was eight, I quickly learned how to entertain myself. I roamed the land we were on quite freely, often wandering back to the pond behind the corn field. I'm sure if my parents knew how much time I spent out there they would not have been pleased. (I didn't know how to swim.) Between the roaming and learning life on a farm, I, former fanatic about My Little Ponies and Barbie Dolls, became entranced by hanging out in my dad's shop, taking things apart and then putting them back together (well, occasionally getting them put back together...sorry dad), fishing, driving the bobcat, and climbing trees. I turned into a bonafide tomboy.

I was in the 3rd grade when we moved back to town. We even moved back into the same house we had lived in before, but this time something was different. There were new neighbors to the side of us and they had kids! They were my buds - Brian and Ryan. Along with my old group of townie friends, we were kings and queens of the town, getting into mischief and having a lot of fun. There was only one dark cloud on our horizon and his name was Race. He was Brian and Ryan's older brother and he was MEAN. Secretly we worshiped him, of course, but to his face we were defiant (okay, the others were defiant, I was a mouse). The only time he could cow us was when he threatened physical violence or would deign to show off his Michael Jackson jacket and glove while moonwalking to Thriller. He was our James Dean. It was a great time in my life. I learned how to shoot a basketball with Brian and Ryan while playing "PIG" or "Around the World", how to play football, ride a skateboard, and race our bikes. Those first few steps I had taken into tomboyhood were nothing compared to now. Who wants to play dolls when we can race our bikes? I had new pets too - some baby rabbits we tried to raise (the mother was killed before they were weaned), several kittens and a baby racoon. The kittens were eventually killed or ran away, the baby rabbits died, and the baby racoon bit me one day resulting in my parents giving it away also. It was for the best I guess. Racoons get really big and a wild animal has no place in town as a pet.

One of my fondest memories of that time was when Race decided to play football with Brian, Ryan and I. Race picked me to be on his team and he was the "quarterback". He got the ball and tossed it to me, telling me to run toward the end of our "field" (their yard). Ryan tried to tackle me when I was 10 feet away from my goal, but he didn't weigh enough to bring me down. I ended up dragging him with me, scoring the winning point, with Race and Brian laughing hyseterically. Their mom wasn't quite as amused when she saw the knee hole that had been ripped in Ryan's pants after being dragged across the yard, but it didn't matter. Race was nice to us and I had helped him win the game. It was a proud day.

Another great memory was learning how to count in Spanish. Brian and Ryan were the youngest of a large family. One of their older sisters, Deb, was in high school and learning Spanish. She was picked on by the family a lot and would sit outside to get away from them. I would occasionally keep her company and she ended up teaching me some Spanish words. We also shared a love of Magnus organ music. My mother had a magnus organ that I learned to play at a young age. (You press black or white cord buttons with your left hand, while playing the keyboard notes with your right hand.) It was weird. She was in high school and I was in the 4th grade, but we were friends. I didn't always understand her though, she seemed so sad most of the time.

It was great living in town again. My grandparents lived only a few blocks away so I was able to see them often. However, what I didn't know was that my return as a townie was rapidly coming to an end. We stayed for only a year before moving back to the country.

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