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Article #145: Houston Memories

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Houston Memories walked beside my big brother. I had done
During my childhood, my family moved what he does. Then I looked down at my
quite often due to my father's mining doll and screamed.
career. This nomad life led to many "What?" Mike asked, annoyed.
unique experiences and fond memories. "Her head!" I sobbed, pointing to the
plastic neck. "It's gone!"
I was a belligerent child and it often Mike sighed. "You stay here. I'll go back
got me into trouble. While living in a and find it. It can't be far."
subdivision, I was playing in the I nodded and watched him jog back over
schoolyard with a few neighborhood kids. our footprints in the snow. When he
I said something rude to a next-door reached the tracks, I saw him stop and
neighbor's son, which angered him. He bend over. I smiled happily when I saw
responded by kicking out my front tooth. Mike hold the missing head aloft. I knew
Even at the tender age of six, I knew he would find it.
what had happened had been partially my In the distance, I heard a whistle blow
fault. So when I got home - with a bloody and felt a cold fear envelope me.
mouth - I told my mother a swing had hit My older brother, my hero, was going to
me in the mouth. It was a plausible story be hit by a train!
and my mother believed me. I screamed again and started to run
However, unknown to me, my assailant had towards town.
gone home and was waiting in fear for the Soon I heard footsteps behind me and felt
telephone call from my mother, informing Mike grab my arm.
his parents of the damage he had done. "What are you doing?" He asked as he took
After a few hours, his conscience either the body of my doll.
took hold or the agony of waiting "I thought you were going to be hit by
overcame him and he confessed the the train."
incident to his mother. "Cripe," Mike muttered as he secured the
She called my mother to apologize and my head of the doll on the body. Handing it
fallacy was revealed. He was punished - back to me, he continued.
which he blamed me for - and I did my "Well I didn't so let's go." I replaced
best to avoid him. my hand firmly back in his and continued
Not only was I a surly child, but also I on to town.
was uncoordinated. While visiting friends What this area lacked in sophistication,
of my parents, their son and I went it made up for with the beauty of nature.
downstairs to play ping-pong. I was Winters were long and cold -the piles
frustrated with my inability to hit the snow covered by a thin layer of ice.
small ball and the one time my paddle did Icicles hung from the pine trees and the
connect, I whacked it with all my might. wind could chill the most warmly dressed
I watched the white orb sail across to person. Bu then the wind would die down,
the other side of table and hit my the sun would come out and the farm would
opponent between the eyes. be transformed into a glittering
Needless to say the game ended there. playground. The desire to get out of the
But the majority of my recollections come house-to romp in that fairy tale setting
from when we left the subdivision and -would overwhelm me.
moved to a farm on the other side of the My mother, probably relieved to get me
Bulkley River, that place was a child's out of the house for a while, would dress
paradise. me in my snowsuit and the necessary
I had a log playhouse - identical to the accessories. Once the last zipper was
main house - that was furnished with odds zipped, the last string tied, the last
and ends my parents donated. fastener closed, I almost always had to
It was there I held my tea parties for my go to the washroom. My mother would sigh
toys and occasionally my mother. One day and mutter -what she said I can only
I spent hours tidying up my little home, imagine -then undo everything while I
preparing the tea (in reality, Kool-Aid) shifted from leg to leg.
and creating peanut butter and jelly Winter brought red noses, rosy cheeks and
sandwiches worthy of royalty. I even went hot chocolate with marshmallows. We would
so far as to cut off the crusts. traipse up the hills, hauling our sleds
Proudly, I escorted my mother inside. She behind us so we could experience the
perched regally on the chair, but the thrill of racing to the bottom. Then we
look of apprehension that crossed her would do it all over again. My younger
face warned me that I had done something brother and I would bicker and giggle -
wrong. having snowball fights, building snow
Yet, she valiantly nibbled on a sandwich people and attempting to build snow
and sipped her 'tea'. Later I learned it forts. Then, chilled and soaking wet, we
was not the done thing to paint flowers would go inside to be warmed and fed.
on bread with food coloring. Spring would creep in - the snow melting
I was the only daughter in my family, and the new plant life poking their way
with a natural brother years older. to the surface. The river would flood but
When I was seven, my parents adopted a that was merely a hazard of spring.
boy three years younger than myself. It Mud - thick, gooey, fragrant mud -
could have been a lonely time for me, but another symbol of spring. We made gourmet
the farm next to us was owned by a Dutch meals of mud, getting it over everything
couple with about ten children. Two girls and ourselves. It was glorious fun, but
were near my age and they became my now I can sympathize with my mother. She
playmates. They introduced me to the was constantly trying to keep us and our
mysterious and exciting world of children environment free of muck.
on a farm. Spring time was also when the wild life
Summer we walked around sucking on pieces reappeared. One bright sunny day, my
of cows' salt licks; we paddled in the mother decided to hang the laundry out on
river on inner tubes, then bravely the line. She backed out the door, turned
removed the leeches from our legs when we and saw a moose watching her. Excited,
left the river, we searched the bushes she ran in the house and called us kids.
for edible berries. By the time we neared the back door, the
Sometimes, a roly-poly white pony - moose was standing there looking in - as
ironically named Slim - with one blue eye curious about us as we were about it.
and one brown eye would be our gallant It was spring when my father and I
steed for these adventures. The three of visited a nearby farm with goats. My
us would pile on and urge him to whisk us father was talking with the farmer while
away. I stood quietly by. A goat approached my
Slim would like to wait until we were father, fascinated by the fringe on his
riding down a hill before tiring of us. jacket. Having always been taught not to
Calmly, he would stop; lower his head interrupt, I silently watched as the goat
then wait patiently as the three of us began to eat the dangling pieces of
slid gracelessly to the ground. Slim was suede. A sharp tug alerted my father to
too fat and too lazy to dislodge us any what was happening and he managed to
other way, but the glint in his eye as he escape without his jacket being too badly
watched us pick ourselves up, spoke of an damaged.
equine amusement. Spring was the time of anticipation. The
These were times when Slim wanted nothing sometimes oppressing winter was gone for
to do with us from the moment we came now and new life surrounded us.
near him. We would be chasing him until Summer brought an interesting array of
either he or we gave up. On one such events. School was finished, so we were
time, when Slim was in a somewhat basically free to do what we wished. The
cantankerous mood, he kicked back with crops had a firm hold on life, some
his hind legs. A hoof brushed my jaw - vegetables ready to be eaten immediately.
not hard enough to do any severe damage, Barbecues and picnics; mosquitoes and
but with enough pressure to cause dragon flies; horseback riding and
swelling and bruising. swimming - that's what summer in Northern
I was certain my mother would forbid me B.C. was to me.
to play with Slim after she saw my face, Autumn always seemed to come fast. Too
so, as I walked home, I came up with a fast most years. But Mother Nature seemed
story. I told my mother one of the geese to explode in a colorful defiance of
had bit me and she believed me. approaching winter. Everything was red,
My mother's acceptance of this story is yellow and orange before turning dull and
understandable though since this gaggle drab. The air was crisp, containing an
of geese were a particularly malicious edge that warned of the future frigid
group. To this day, a part of me still temperatures.
believes those geese used to lie in wait Leaves covered the browning expanse by
for an unsuspecting person to ambush. Too our log house. Leaves to be rolled in and
many times my casual stroll would be thrown at each other. The rest of the
transformed into a screaming dash for garden would now come in and each night
shelter as the birds squawked and flapped we would eat our own produce.
their wings behind me. Even when I was School would start - the anticipation of
alert, watching intently for my a new teacher and new classes quickly
tormentors, they still managed to replaced by the drudgery of having to
surprise me. I suspected they adhere to a new schedule. The glorious
materialized out of thin air. memories of summer faded and hopes and
One of my idols in those days was my big plans for the next year were born.
brother Mike. Six years older than I, he Rapidly we would move into winter.
always seemed to know and do everything. Although living in that region over
One of the activities I envied the most thirty years ago presented its own
was how he was allowed to walk across the perils, it also offered unique
frozen river to town. I desperately opportunities. Seeing a moose or deer
wanted to walk across that icy surface. running wild and free in his or her own
On evening my wish was granted. My habitat is an uplifting sight that can't
parents had gone away for the week, be matched by observing the same animal
leaving Mike in charge and Mike had to go in the zoo or on a screen. At that time,
to hockey practice. Mike made certain I people did not control the land - nature
was well dressed for the cold -the toque allowed us to be there and would
was crammed onto my head, the jacket hood sometimes demonstrate its strength with
tied tightly under my chin, a scarf natural disasters.
wrapped around my face, my wool covered It's different there now. Technology and
feet shoved into warm winter boots and my advancement have changed things. Kids
hands covered with thick mittens. With my have more to do and rely less on nature
favorite doll tucked in one arm and my and their imaginations. What I
free hand holding Mike's tightly, we set experienced isn't what children have to
out for town. now.
Crossing the frozen river seemed every I now live in Vancouver and experience
bit as exciting to my eight-year-old all the luxuries and privileges
heart as I had thought it would be. Even associated with living in a large city.
though I gripped Mike's hand tightly, I Yet every once in a while I'll look to
felt daring. Especially when Mike told me the north and my heart will do some
not to tell Mom and Dad what we had done! traveling. I know that where ever my
At the opposite riverbank, my adventure future takes me, there will always be a
was still continuing - we still had to small part of me chasing ponies and
cross the railroad tracks. I tightened my running from geese in that little town in
hold on my doll as Mike helped me pick my Northern B.C.
way over the rails. I was proud as I






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