Dissociated Thoughts

Memories of a Country Girl

Growing up in the country was great. I had the run of both my parents' property and that of their neighbors; hundreds of acres in all. Hiking through the woods, swimming in the creeks, fishing in the stock ponds - there was always so much for me to do and I was seldom inside. Even on the nasty days of rain or snow I would be out of the house, exploring one of the old barns or just chilling with the animals in those barns suitable to still be in use. I loved being out, being around the animals, helping out my dad (or getting in his way, depending on how one looks at things). I was such a Daddy's girl! He taught me how to care for the animals, feed the orphaned babies, that sort of thing. But one of the "at home" memories I will always cherish is how my dad would start up his old Izuzu Pup and grab the spotlight and tell me to hop in. Those times were such fun! We would drive through the pastures and swipe the spotlight around looking for critters. We were hunting skunks because our place was overrun with them, and they were killing our chickens. We didn't need guns. You don't always have to have a gun when you're hunting. All we needed was a spotlight and Daddy's trusty little truck. Most times, I would sweep the field with the spotlight and Daddy would run over any skunks we came across. Yeah, it was a smelly business, but it was so fun, and it was something that I got to share with my dad that no one else did. It's also where I learned to drive a stick shift. I suppose Daddy figured that out in the pasture I'd be less likely to wreck the truck or hit anyone else's vehicle. But, while I never wrecked the truck out in those pastures, I did manage to wreck our dirt bike out there. Yet another adventure of a kid with ample opportunity to get into mischief.