Rock & Roll Farm |
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Monday! Jun 30 2003 // 3:14 pm // life in the slow laneI’ve finally done it. This may not seem like a huge feat to you, but i’ve actually lived in one apartment for a full year. The anniversary was technically about a month ago, but i didn’t want to jinx our lease being renewed by yapping about it all over the place. So. Yay me. I’ve lived in one apartment for a full year, for the first time since 1998. Guess how many times i’ve moved in that time. Give up? Eleven. Guess how many times I’ve moved in my whole life. Twenty-one. I think. I don’t have a clear memory of each and every one before age six. ::::: Vague memories of the different homes I lived in before age six (in no particular order - mostly because I can’t remember the order): Married Housing, Central Michigan University, Mt. Pleasant, MI The buildings were set up in fours, with playgrounds in the center courtyards. The play areas were ringed by sidewalks that ran along the buildings. We would ride our big-wheels around, and around, and around the square for what must have seemed like entire days to the overtired parents inside. First Halloween: I insisted that I would be a raisin box. I’m pretty sure I only went to one house. My brother, 8 months old, was sitting in his high-chair next to the counter. He got a hold of the cord for the crock-pot and pulled the hole dang thing over on himself. I was pissed because nobody was paying attention to the little speck of gravy that had landed on my knee. That little kid got all the attention all the time. Uncle Larry took me upstairs to clean off my knee, and probably to get me away from the horrific scene my young brain could not comprehend taking place in the kitchen. My dad came home from a softball or baseball game. I was sitting on the floor. I looked up, and realized just how tall he was. Six foot six is a lot of dad standing over you. I remember wondering how he could hear me if I was so far away on the floor.
My brother celebrated his first birthday and got a Bert and Ernie cake that I was fiercely jealous of. Flew my first kite, got lost in my first cornfield, and found potatoes growing in the driveway. Dissuaded my brother from sticking something in the light socket that one time, too. I don’t know why I remember it so well, but he was standing up in his crib in his footie pajamas and I was like, “hey man, that’s like a totally stupid idea. Let’s play blocks instead.”
Uncle Larry was home from university for the summer. We were only there for a few weeks, I think. I would get up early probably every day, and sneak in his room and make him play hide-n-seek with me. Being a university student, I doubt he was interested in getting up early, but he would tell me to go hide anyway. For the next few hours, I would give up waiting for him to find me - believing that I was just too good at hiding - and go back to his room to start a new game. Somehow, I never put two-and-two together to realize that the reason he was always asleep when I went back was because he had never gotten up to begin with. Ha, ha, ha, Uncle Larry.
Hail the size of softballs. We put one in the freezer for a snowball fight at a later date. Holly Hobby bedspread. *sigh* I still love Holly Hobby. There was this weird fireplace/furnace/stove thing in the living room area. One time when we had a babysitter, my brother drew all over the stove thing with crayons. I don’t know how the babysitter didn’t notice what he was doing. But I guess all babysitters weren’t as cool as I was when I was a babysitter. Maybe it wasn’t even when a babysitter was there. Maybe my mom was just in the kitchen or something. Anyway, he was in super big trouble.
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