Saturday, September 5, 2009
The roots of everything that mean more then just plain Jane kind of stuff to me are when I am a rain dancer in my dreams. Growing up I always use to run to the back of the yard before dinner. When I clearly knew it was about to rain because the cat would launch inside the door and the dogs would began to run wildly. I would start running in a circle and begin to chant at the top of my lungs without a care in the world what the neighbors thought. I didn’t care very much for being lady like when I was in the comfort of my own home.
My mother had a different option of what I should be doing. I love the out doors and I would go jumping on the tire swing and then roll myself down the hill. And act like my dogs were some kind of wild beast and then my brother and sister would be joining along with me. Then it would begin to rain and everything went off! I would state going in circles around the bomb fire and look at the burning light till I would start getting dizzy. I loved the good old days.