Childhood Memories

Hi everyone!

Yeah! Here we are at mid week! I have been really busy so I am glad I can see the weekend on the horizon. :o)

I was recently reminded of some childhood memories...memories of things that "scarred me for life!" I read the recent blog post over at JD's I Do Things So You Don't Have To and she was telling us about her traumatic trip to the movies when she saw The Godfather. If you don't read JD's blog, you should, it's quite funny.

So this got me thinking about my own childhood traumas and I thought you all would love to hear about them! Well, maybe not, but I am in the mood to share.

When I was young, I spent many happy summer vacations camping with my mom and dad and my niece. My niece is a year older than me. I will spare all the details of how that happened except to say there is a big gap between my siblings and me. We went all over California camping and exploring. My dad loved ghost towns so we saw a lot of those too.

We went to Yosemite several years in a row. We always stayed at Camp Curry, a tent camp. We had a ton of fun, swimming in rivers, hiking, looking at scenic views. My dad was an early riser and I can still remember the single light bulb hanging from a string in the tent over my bed. Daddy would be up and shaving and would always have a nice cup of coffee ready for me.

On one of our many adventures we stopped at the top of a dry waterfall. There were railings to prevent you from falling over the edge of the cliff. So here we are, my mom and dad and us two young girls enjoying the view when daddy says he wants to show us the view. Well, the next thing you know I am lifted up and over the railings and I am looking down the cliff! Yikes!!!

This is the day I became afraid of heights.

As the years went on and Yosemite got crowded and harder to get a tent, we moved our camping trips up north to the Trinity Alps area of California. This is a lovely area of lakes and mountains near Mount Shasta. We especially liked going to Whiskeytown Lake. This was a fun lake because it had a designated swimming area and a nice picnic area with a little food stand. I got a horrible sunburn there one year, I was paddling around on a raft and stayed out too long and was a true lobster. I am very, very fair. But that is not the traumatic event.

One day we were enjoying the lake swimming and splashing about. My dad was out in the lake with us girls and life was good. We just loved it when daddy would get out and swim with us. I had gone to shore for a snack or something and saw my dad out in the lake. He was pretty far out and was waving me over to him. I have always been a good swimmer so I wasn't concerned about the distance. So off I go, swimming out to see my dad...when I got to him I was paddling around and wondered why he wasn't doing the dog paddle to stay in place. He said he was standing on the bottom of the lake and I should just stand up next to him. Cool!! Well, I went to stand and just went down, and down, and down! I remember seeing my arms reaching for the surface, by the time my feet hit the bottom the water was over my hands by a few feet. While underwater, I looked over and saw my dad's legs...he was standing on a big rock!!

I was so mad I swam back to shore as fast as I could. When I reached the shore and started to walk out of the water I noticed something else horrifying! I had a sucker fish attached to my finger!! Aauugghh!!!!

That was the day I became afraid of swimming in deep water and swimming with fish.

So there you have it, two stories that shaped my childhood and made me the goofy woman I am. There are many more stories to tell. Some involve my husband trying to kill me. You'd think he would have the courtesy to wait until we have huge life insurance policies!!

Talk to you soon!

Hugs,

puglette

:o)

for JD :o)