The Sixth Year - 1985

Kindergarten. Yes, like most five-year-old children I started school. I was in Mrs. Garrett's class.... I think. She died part way through the year and I was pulled from school. In all honesty, I don't recall much of anything about this first year of school, or life for that matter, but I have plenty of engineered memories about how it all went down.

I think I remember sitting in class one morning waiting for the teacher when the principal came in to let us know she wouldn't be coming in - ever. Next thing I knew I was done with school for the year.

I'm not sure when it happened, but I know I used to LOVE the seasons - yes, ALL of them. I know, those of you who know me can't believe I could have ever even tolerated fall, much less winter. But there was a time where winter meant playing in the snow. It used to snow SO much too! One year I remember it being well above my head (engineered memory?). It really did snow a lot more back then. My siblings and I built a snow fort (igloo) in the horse fields by our house one year - a feat which landed us, and our picture in the local news paper... wish I had a clipping of that.

Spring meant lots of rain. We used to get the biggest puddles. The roads (all dirt roads in our neck of Wagon Wheel) would flood and flow like rivers. Somewhere between our house and the "farm" water collected in giant puddles that got so warm in the sun. Throw in mass amounts of mud and *bam* instant boy joy!

Summer. What kid doesn't love summer. There was a HUGE - literally HUGE (several thousand gallon at least) - tank in one of the horse fields near our house. I think it was once an underground gas station tank. Why it was then above ground and in that horse field I'll probably never know. But my cousins and I used to play on it. We had a long board leaned against it that we would climb up. It was in the field next to the "main" road - a road my uncle Karl would drive down looking for kids to work for him... usually wanted us to "plant worms" in or weed his garden. Whenever we saw his truck coming we'd all scurry like cockroaches when the light goes on.

Fall. Halloween and holidays. What more needs to be said. My earliest trick-or-treating memories are actually of us kids going around the neighborhood (walking) and getting home made candies. Everyone in a 5 mile radius was related to me. Literally, grandparents, great aunts and uncles, regular aunts and uncles, and the numberless cousins - I still to this day haven't a clue how many first cousins I have, and that number could be growing still for all I know. My dad's parents almost always gave out home made popcorn balls. My mom's grandparents (yes, my great-grandparents), being Hispanic, gave out cough drops and dried up mini marshmallows.