01/25/2026
Today was a writing day, sometimes writing is very difficult and I have definitely been in a slump, I am hopeful this helped.
Writing is hard, sometimes I am blocked for months at a time, not knowing how to start what I wish to say or not having the inspiration to write something. Memories are usually what come pouring out of me, and for this I am profoundly glad, because I am (hopefully) able to recreate some of my life for others ( or even myself ) to read later on. Memories can fade quickly, so my desire has always been to capture in writing as many of these memories of mine on paper, as they may also strike a chord within other people and bring their memories back to life.
My earliest recollection of things are just brief glimpses into my youngest self, not particularly happy recollections, memories of pain, both mental and physical, and fear. I share them so people can understand that memories can be soothing and fun, they also help us to perhaps understand some of our deep seated fears. I am not a psychologist, nor do I play one on TV, but these are my thoughts on the issue. Here are some examples from my own memories of why.
I have always been an animal lover, back to my earliest memories, they revolve around animals and my family of course. I know I was quite young when this occurred and it is just a flash of a memory.
I was outside playing on the lawn when I saw the dogs had caught something. Of course I marched over to see what it was… it was a wounded squirrel. Now I do not know what went through my mind as I headed back to our porch with the wounded squirrel, maybe I was attempting to save it from its certain fate at the mercy of the dogs. As I was putting the squirrel in a bird cage we had on our back porch, the squirrel came to life and it bit me, I recall the pain of being bit by the squirrel, and crying, I am sure I was comforted by either my mom or my dad as they were nurturing parents. I have no idea what happened to the poor squirrel after my being bitten, it likely passed away.
So in keeping with the memories of pain and animals, I vaguely remember another encounter that didn't end well. I know we were not at our house and it was a big family celebration, most likely the 4th of July because I am sure we were in Fergus Falls at my relatives as we always did on that holiday. I caught a young bird, a robin, I was probably clutching it tightly and it was probably making noises to escape. Anyway, I was scolded by one of my older relatives for catching the bird and my mom helped to unclench my fingers from the bird. I know she was very upset that I was scolded, and I was probably crying because I didn't like doing wrong in someone's eyes and being scolded meant I had done wrong. I was scared of people after that, I think it was a part of what caused my early incredible shyness. That was an incredibly hard shell to crack for so many years. Now people who know me scoff at my insistence that I was once painfully shy, but it is the truth, I truly was afraid of people and didn't wish to speak to them unless I knew them very well. Well, look at me now!
More pleasant memories are meeting my aunt in town, she had a horse and getting to go to her house to go riding! Now riding for a 3 yr old at that time meant being placed in front of my aunt in the saddle, feeling the horse's giant strides moving us forward and the bouncing jolts of a trot, I always wanted to go back to a walk as trotting was too bouncy! The horse's name was Cadet and he was a big beautiful bay Quarter Horse type gelding my aunt and uncle had together with Chico my uncle's big bay quirky Quarter Horse type gelding. Those horses lived on my relative's farm for many, many years even as teenagers when we went to my aunt and uncle's for family gatherings, my sister and I would often ask permission to take Cadet and Chico for a ride, and we were untrusted with their care.
We would take long rides down the road along the highway and into the city cemetery, and there we would ride the roads inside the cemetery often looking at the old gravestones and finding mysteries inside the graveyard. One of those mysteries was a grave marker that just said "Dan and Jim", no born dates and no death date. I had no idea what that marker was about and often wondered, even into adulthood. Only recently ( as in the past couple of years) did I learn that "Dan and Jim" were two beloved horses that were buried out there in the community cemetery. How interesting and touching is that? Cadet and Chico are integral parts of my memory as they helped me develop this incredible love for horses that makes me who I am.
Thank you Cadet, thank you Chico, this is my tribute to your memory.
Now, speaking of Chico, he was my uncle's horse and I knew him as such even when I was a youngster.
Our town had a celebration one summer, and I clearly remember this incidence, I do not know what the celebration was for but I remember close to sundown standing in the street with my parents when all of a sudden a commotion up the street brought everyone's attention to the street! It was gunfire and the clatter of horses' hooves racing up the street. 3 masked outlaws were galloping towards the crowd, firing their pistols and whooping up a storm! They skidded to a stop at the bank and ran inside! They were robbing the bank! Now as a small child I didn't know what was going on, but it created quite a stir for the crowd, such excitement! The masked gunmen quickly came out of the bank with a couple of bags Probably labeled MONEY, They mounted their trusty steeds and galloped off, shooting their guns and whooping again off out of my line of sight through town. It was amazing! I wanted to be just like those cowboys! Racing my horse off into the sunset!
Later I overheard my dad talking to someone about the "bank robbery". I didn't know it was all staged, but he did and he knew who the bank robbers were, to my recollection one of them was my uncle, and another was one of my dad's very best friends, I don't recall who the third one was now, but I am sure I knew at one time. Such an exciting thing to see and recall! Even now, the drama of the event makes my heart race, and brings back the feelings I felt then, nearly 60 years ago! My uncle would have been riding his own horse Chico in that great bank robbery, so that too is a tribute to Chico!
More earliest memories, growing up in the country meant we didn't spend a lot of time in town, but it also meant that we got to attend a lot of picnics. Back in those days groups of women would gather together for " Homemakers " I think it was a sort of club, I don't know for sure what they all did, but I do know they hosted picnics, especially on the lawn of the old schoolhouse. Neighbors from all over the area would bring food for picnics. Sugar cookies, pies, fried chicken, meat sandwiches, Jello ( yes a Midwestern staple of all food events), even the icky "under the Sea" Jello salad, with celery and carrots shredded into the Jello…. It was a Big Deal in the 60s. Now the old schoolhouse was a great place for exploration, there was an outhouse with sides for Men and Women, and I know the Women's side had a two holer, I do not know how many holes the Men's side had. There was also a tumble down woodshed beside the outhouse plus the schoolhouse, which we were not allowed inside of on picnic days. Next to the picnic spot was an old working hand well pump. It was so great to crank that handle up and down and magically produce water! Now I was too short to make the crank go up and down without help, but some of the big kids often helped me to pump water, it was one of the highlights of picnics with the "Homemakers". My grandma and grandpa would be at these picnics as well as all the other neighbors, I loved going on picnics, even now there is a touch of nostalgia and whenever I think of planning a picnic. Thank you to the "Homemakers"!
Speaking of 4th of July, brings to mind another memory, I was terribly afraid of loud noises, could be the empath in me, not sure. I do know that the 4th of July was always terrifying for me at fireworks time, I knew those big booms would be coming and it filled me with dread. I remember being at my grandparents house when the fireworks started, I also remember running to the bathroom and locking myself inside the bathroom, no one knew how to get me out, and I was too small to figure out how to unlock the door once I got it locked. I believe it involved taking the hinges off the bathroom door in order to get me out of that bathroom. I was so scared, just didn't want the big booms anymore! But also as a child I remember my dad taking us to fireworks displays all over and loving the sight of the beautiful, colorful flowers exploding in the sky, I just hated the booms that sometimes accompanied them. In those days I don't ever remember being bitten by mosquitoes at these events, it is weird, that such details escape me, usually much of that inconsequential stuff sticks in my mind. The towns of Hancock, and maybe Madison are some of the places I think I remember going to for fireworks displays on the 4th of July.
