It is SO COLD out right now! I mean DUH, its winter--but I'm so cold!! My feet just can't warm up and I'm about to just start walking around in full on long johns people (yes, only long johns, because that is dang sexy!). For the most part I don't mind change in weather, there's usually something pretty awesome about every season. I like the winter just fine, I just don't like being cold! I like playing in the snow, but I don't like being cold! I adore the way the snow sparkles, but I HATE getting stuck in our freakin' driveway! (Bet you thought I was going to say I don't like being cold! Neener neener HA ha! I'm so tricky...) So every night I crawl into bed in my footed pajamas, curled in a tight ball trying to keep as much warmth near me as possible. And I dream. I dream about summer and the heat and the beautiful sunshine (and how I won't appreciate it when its here, and I'll post about how freakin' hot it is...). And I started dreaming about summer's when I was a kid.
One wonderful summer, when I was in my pre-teen years, the neighbor's and I were really into building things. First off, I need to explain that my parents own just about three acres of property. We lived on a dead end street with a total of five neighbors (all old people except for two of them). The people right at the end of the street were rich and had a huge house, they didn't play with us. But the people right next to us had three kids, all around the same age as my older siblings and me. The neighbors we played with had like three or four huge chicken coops, huge, more like long barns. Long barns filled with CRAP! Old stuff and hay and farm stuff and just a bunch of junk--filled to the brim! So we would take stuff out of there and build other useless stuff with it.
We built this fort, that had TWO rooms, oh yeah we were awesome. We even put a lock on it and kept a key for it so no one would get in! We also had blackberry bushes EVERYWHERE. So we would crawl through the bushes, making tunnels until we would find a spot where the branches weren't so close and it would open up into a "room." It was magical! Like our own private world where no one bugged us and we could do whatever we wanted! We'd bring food and toys and whatnot and play out there in the bushes for hours.
One day I decided I REALLY needed a swing. My parents have a bunch of apple trees and some cherry trees, but on one of those trees not a swing to be found. So I went out to one of the crap holders--I mean chicken coops, and found some old rope and a piece of wood. I threw that rope up over a high branch and tied it in a knot. Then threw another piece over and tied another knot. Then I stuck the board into the loops and sat down.
I fell right on my tookus! The rope had come untied and dropped me like Oprah on a diet! I would *like* to say I gave up my endeavors, I would like to, but I can't. I tried over and over and over to build a stinkin swing! Falling on my butt so hard I swear I broke my coccyx, but I WOULD NOT give up!!
Okay after awhile I gave up.
I could never get that stupid swing to work for me (and now you know I'm sort of like a fly trying to go out a shut window--over and over and over again...)! So NEXT time I EVER make a swing again, it will look something like this:
Also something I'll be dreaming about...