So…after yesterday’s thrilling post… I still qualify for NaBloPoMo-January2011, the topic was deemed “Friends”.


So let me begin, with story from my childhood…when I was a youngster, growing up in Missouri, we lived on a large piece of land. Not sure why, it could have been a farm, but my father was a machinist. It was a bit of a walk to our closest neighbors, we had a drive way that was at least a hundred yards long. There was a pond, half way up the drive, between the house and the dirt road. Heck, we even had a “Party-line” for phone service. Occasionally my parents friends would visit, and bring their kids.

One time, the kids were walking around the pond, looking for snakes or frogs, or, as a vivid memory I have, a snake eating a frog. My dog, was swimming in the pond, as dogs do, because it is so much easier to get the humans to smell like dog if the dogs shake themselves dry. One of the kids started throwing rocks into the pond. I didn’t want my best friend (the dog) hurt so I yelled at the kid to stop. He stopped throwing into the pond, and threw one at me. He was a good shot, because it hit me right on the forehead. I remember sobbing, walking up the drive, drops of blood dripping through my fingers, speckling rocks in the gravel. I remember being held by a parent, crying, wearing my favorite blue jean jacket (and not a cool jeans jacker, a very off style one…well…it was the 70s), and the father of the boy saying that I was a brave little Indian, which did cheer me up.



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