Floating My Doll

I don't remember when she came nor if she had a name.  She never wore clothes.  She was a handy size to haul around with me on my adventures. She was about eight inches tall, stuffed rubber with eyes that closed, and varying cut lengths of reddish brown matted hair.  The only seam was where her head attached to her body.

Naked Friend was a constant companion. She was my ultimate "Action Figure".  She climbed trees with me because I could tuck her in my waistband as I climbed.  She liked dogs.  They liked her and sometimes carried her for me.  I kept a hay string so if the going got rough I could tie her to me or even drag her along. Naked Friend did things I never could.  She jumped from trees bravely and landed uninjured. She rode cattle (more often than I) and even explored the underside of the outdoor toilet. Oh, the adventures we had!

The hay string could be her safety line so I tied it permanently around her neck. It gave Naked Friend such a sense of security she began to have more and more adventures.

Our friend and neighbor lived down the creek from us. Mom and Dad visited often.  Naked Friend and I always went too.

Uncle Ray's creek was the continuance of ours with springs joining it along the way.  By the time it flowed below Uncle Ray's front yard it was too big for me to enter without an adult. The creek was in view of Uncle Ray's porch so the adults could watch me while I played BESIDE the creek.

Naked Friend was far luckier.  She entered the stream with her hay string around her neck.  The current would grab her and rush her to the end of the string as I ran along side on dry ground.  Back and forth, back and forth, Naked Friend floated and I ran. It was the highest form of entertainment for a four year old tom boy (who didn't really like dolls).

I thought of Naked Friend (named for this story) and told the tale to my hubby.  He was shocked and appalled as if I were a serial killer or something.  I said, It was just a doll. He shook his head.

Oh, the imaginative adventures of a country child!  I think Hubby will be watching me next time I'm around him with any kind of rope.

May our imagination and sense of adventure never fade.

This Rock

is much larger than it looks and is part of a large limestone shelf behind the garden.  Just below a spring runs as the first full time source of live water that begins our creek.  The main springs join in further down.

The ledge is over grown now.  There are four to five rocks that I'm sure used to be one thousands of years ago but time and climate and other sources divided them.  They lay thick and solid almost touching but never moving...not in my life time.

Today I wanted to climb and touch them but along with briers, honeysuckle and Virginia Creeper there was also a fine crop of Poison Ivy so I didn't.  I stood at creek level and remembered.

I remembered the ongoing adventures my dad and all the grandchildren had here.  One rock sounds hollow when tapped with a hammer or a rock.  This sound was the beginning of The Treasure Hunt.

It was a sight to see...Dad leading a row of stair step grand children, each carrying their tool of choice, through the garden and down the bank to endless adventures.

The cracks around the hollow rock, filled with nature's debris,  were emptied with sand shovels, picks, tiny hands and patience.  Much laughter was always heard and many stories told with no limits to their imagination regarding what they might find.

When they grew tired Dad and the ducklings shouldered their tools and returned home to feed and rest.

The bottom edge was never reached but the digging never stopped. A day at the farm usually meant a treasure hunt with Grandpa Pete.  The digging crew grew smaller but they now had their own stories to add.

The children grew older and went their own way.

One day I came to visit and Dad was digging alone remembering.  The grandchildren will never forget.

Rubber Booting

in rain refreshed  and refilled dry creeks.  The waters had receded leaving crystal clear sites to enjoy

Clear moving water 

in places dry no more.  What a blessing.

Wading in newly exposed gravel armed with two cameras

is always an adventure for me

A rejuvenating walk to see changes

and crawdad friends is a favorite pastime.

Places were widened where flood logs were removed.

Treasures found on a crisp fall day just lighten my spirit.

The blessings and the healing continues.

The Adventures of Dead Mouse

I had a helper yesterday to make my day go faster.

Meet Mr. Dead Mouse.

He said just call him Dead.

He did some sweeping.

The hammer was just a wee bit large for him.

Dead likes honey and was fascinated with the antique smoker.

He was very sad when the bee gloves would not fit.

Dead gave the grind wheel a couple of turns.

He laughed and said it made him dizzy.

He enjoyed checking out the old tools

and was very grateful he had sharp teeth.

This saw could not be mouse powered.

Pretty knowledgeable about power

Dead admitted he COULD possibly be

the reason this outlet will not work.

 Dead decided to leave the vise alone.

I would say that was wise considering his fragile condition.

Dead Mouse became Happy Mouse

when he discovered this hub cap.

He's a Chevrolet mouse through and through.

He swore on his mother's grave

he did not know this place was posted.

Dead spent the rest of the day dancing his little feet off.

He came alive to Queen's "We Are The Champions"

We both enjoyed the music.

Boston, CCR, Nine Inch Nails, even The Boss sang.

When I left for the day, Dead was still rocking out!

He will probably be too tired tomorrow to help.

It was a productive day.

A job is always easier when it's shared.

Thank you, Mr Dead Mouse.

You made my day.