beginnings

Starting this blog is something I looked forward to when I saw how much fun and enjoyment my family gets from writing their blogs. My profile has a bit about me, the movies I like, the books I have read or continue to read and things I like to do. I'd like to start with a couple of the first recollections I have of being me. That is, when I was a young boy, what do I remember. So, here goes.

When I was a young boy, from pre-kindergarten age to first grade, I remember living in a house in San Antonio, Texas. The house was large (to me) and had wooden hallways. One of the funnest things I remember doing was going to the end of the hall, taking off at full speed and then sliding as far as I could in my stocking feet (white stockings with little blue stripes).

Our house was located on a street corner across from a creek. In the back of fenced yard was a gigantic weeping willow (taller than our house). The branches of the weeping willow hung way down and provided quite a bit of entertainment as my brothers and I would run and jump up, grabbing the flexible branches and swing out and back. The branches could also be cut and used as whips, an important tool used by every young boy (or maybe better said, every young cowboy, of which I was definitely one).

Somehow, my older brother and I decided that we were spies and needed to protect our house and family from the bad guys. So, we dug a hole on the side of the house, close to the fence and filled it with broken glass and covered the hole with some grass (if a bad guy came along, he was sure to step into the hole and cut his foot up, making sorts of noise and alerting us to his presence). And then, we forgot about the hole. Until, a long time later, weeks, months, I am not sure when, one day, we were playing in the front yard and we heard a loud and high pitched scream of pain. It sounded exactly like my younger brother so we went running to the sound. There he was, my younger brother, his bare foot bleeding profusely. We caught him. I'm not sure how we explained (or if we explained) that to my mother. I will say that I have never noticed any sort of a captured bad guy limp on my younger brother's part, so I feel a little less guilty than I probably should.

That's it for now. I have to figure out how to get some pictures from the above period scanned and then put into these posts. Until next time. KipK