Fish Hooks and Family

As requested by my second mom, was to make the fish hook story. I was not there for everything that had went on, but in the Ditch family nothing is under done. Everything went off in a big affect. It was often a toss up between my Aunt Sharron’s home and my Aunt Melinda’s I have always loved my Aunt Sharron’s house it was like a race track. There was this ring and as kids we would run around it make laps like NASCAR fans. Anytime we came to visit some how there was a chase about her house. And it was always in one direction. The speed we would gather as little kids.

MjAxMi0wMTk2OTljM2UzNDg4YWRhI wonder what’s gonna happen?

This time we were at My Aunt Melinda’s, don’t get me wrong my family is very tightly wound together, unless you are me. I stopped going to church shortly after my mother and father were separated. I stopped believing in Christianity shortly after my Aunt -Nameless- had moved in with me, and I stopped wanting to be around people who would bring up the bad memories and ask the wrong things. So I left a lot of conversations both physically and mentally.

So when it came to true family I tried not to speak of the bad as much as possible. I found a slightly peaceful and almost romantic religion. Reading the main basics of their teachings I have moved on to being a Buddhist, this happened around the time when I was 20, one of the few decisions I got to actually make in my life. It’s awkward to be cause I have this odd attraction to the eastern cultures of the orient. I have a friend who I constantly joke with about having yellow fever. Bruce Lee had paved the path and everyone else seemed to follow through. Then you add the spiritualist of the Tibetan Monks, you might as well just let me sit and be a vegetable in awe. I was not until I moved to Texas for a few months and got to witness them first hand. We lived right across the temple and we had little to do, but the few times we walked by they happened to be the most kind and gentle creatures who walked the planet. So to top it off chalk up obsessed with guys in the orange robes. Changing religions  seemed to be one of those decisions that were never regretted.


If you have ever heard me fan-girling I am right now.

Side tracking. Our family is kind of large I have dozens of cousins just one one side, and easy few dozens on another side. I have so many Aunts I do not think I ever actually sat down and counted them all. Its odd because a lot of my cousins and I are related to more then once. Take my cousin Jess, myself and our brothers are related in a few ways but there is no incest or anything like that its just the odd way that it seemed to happen. Even though time and time again it seemed to be something distinctly evil the way the others put it.. “your family tree doesn’t fork.” No ours just does like a figure eight some where in it.

crazy-road-sign1Parts of my family tree, or a traffic sign you decide.

Her grandmother and my grandmother are sisters (and oddly enough they are both on our Mother’s side.) Leading to our mothers being first cousins, so that automatically makes us second cousins. Right after that my dad, and her father are brothers. So we are first Cousins by our dads Second Cousins by our mothers. When it comes to our dads, think of long hair in the 70’s one with a fashion sense only the rich British could envy and the other a backwoods man spurred on hunting and Elvis. Take a wild guess which one was my father, you only get one try. So these suave brothers come across this pair of cousins and then starts the relationships. Leading to marriage, one having their hair all nice and neat and straight looking dignified, and than the other looking like they stuck their fingers in to an electric socket then twisted their hair in tight curls. This is the second time you get to guess, again you only get one guess, so which one was my parents wedding?

CookieYup, you guessed it, here is your cookie.

So our very large family  is having either a Thanksgiving or Christmas, I am not sure exactly which one it was, but the whole family was there. The table was set up in beautifully, family was catching up and Aunt Melinda was a buzz with her amazing heart and good nature spirit perhaps the best god mother a person could hope for. It was a card Christmas people would laugh and hug each others talk about the good things in life. Hallmark should pay us for some of our family photos. Completely different then my other side of the family, that is a story for another time. So the fires warm there is music playing the 3rd generations of cousins are all trying to figure out who to play with. And my dad shows up, his beautiful wife Sara and there were two things that were off about him. The first thing I noticed was he was sprouting hair from the bottom of his knees and it touched the ground.

il_430xN.85609612Some where there is a Wookie walking about on peg legs.

Honestly I was staring at his feet for way to long there were certain things that once you get them in my head I begin to question all reality. I am a fan of Bigfoot, and odd legends of the unknown but I am not out there demanding that I have seen them, there might of been a strange slow in the evolutionary chain for some beings, or there might have been a few college boys strutting across Washington. Either way seeing him stand there I felt sorry. My father being the taxidermist that he is, I had to sit back and wonder what animal got butchered for this horrible fashion decision? I under stand that when you kill an animal you use everything but this poor creatures life was being put to shame by having feet shoved in to his carcass and paraded about like Go Go dancers last wish.

Those shoes were some how attached to jeans that went on to my dad, on up to his wolf pattern shirt his Texas Bola tie and Bear Claw necklace that hung about his neck on up to his nose. There there was a piece of metal that only a true fisherman would be ashamed to see happen and only a punk rocker could envy.


Oi! I should of thought of that!

My father had a 3 pronged barbed fish hook in his nose and not a small one either this was at least 2 inches long. “Sarah really hooked me this time.” My poor step mom was so embarrassed as he placed the blame on her. You can hear her in the back room. “I told him to take it out before he got here. But he wanted to keep it in. ” My dad finds things that are oddly humorous.  Come on the man makes own faces out of a deers rear end how can he not be? He went about the table striking up conversations I wish I had a camera to just capture everyone’s face that was made. Some where bizarre others were worried but the majority of the faces were wondering what he was going to do next.

Sakuma535But it’s so cool everyone will be wearing one!

My dad knew I was in to tattoos and piercings and wanted to get it UN-pierced at a shop. I could actually see him walk in to one of the shops wanting to get unperceived and then wanting to get a refund for a piercing they never gave. So every person has to see it. It was side show Bob. The Main attraction of the night was the hook in his story. Do you know how big the family is, so when a cousin comes over, doesn’t matter what time they see me the conversation always starts off with.. “Did you see your Dad?” That pretty much sums up the beginning of every conversation in my life with my family. Its an epic face planting moment where every time I can fell my spiritual hand slipping over my flesh and trying to peel it off. His sisters and brothers were telling him he needed to figure out what he was going to do about it. Dad was set one getting this out by means of no less then a band of British punks who carried spiked hair, Mohawks, piercings and flame throwers. That was the way he wanted it out and that was the way it was going to happen. It was talked about and looked at a few times he was told to go to the hospital and get help.

hook-in-noseIt’s only a flesh wound.

My family sat down to eat, the breathtaking table of this beautiful meal that my aunt had worked so hard at preparing.  Another almost Hallmark moment if you could just pan over the metal art attached to my dad’s face. It was hard to pray, I don’t think a single one of us prayed for ourselves. I am sure I am not the only one who cracked an eye at that piece he had in his face. It was metal, perhaps magnetized or it was directly in the center of his face it was hard to talk to him and not Captain Hook who was resting peacefully in a nostril. There was this moment in silence when they all prayed. None of asked for something for ourselves, I am more then certain every single one of them was praying the same thing..

tumblr_lqt6clfW3z1qzzsd3o1_400Oh Lord bless this, thy hand grenade.

“Dear lord, please get that hook out of his nose… ” then the head whisper. “No one can eat staring at thing.” So he wiggles his nose like he is some kind of a rabbit, the barbed metal becomes an icon like Punxsutawney Phill, the hook was deciding if it was going to leave his nose and start an early sanity, or see its shadow and stay hooked and allow 6 more weeks of face palming. I am not sure how it Houdini-ed it’s way out of his nose but some how this barbed hook slid out with not so much of a drop blood on the banquette meal that was made. On sneeze after prayer and it was shot out on to his plate. There was a moment of complete relief where Sarah and I realized there is a higher power watching over us. There is someone listening to the random wishes of the mortal realms not sure who it is but I thank you all! Dinner was saved!

b christThank you Jesus!


My Great Grandmother and Her Unwanted Zoo.

I have a wonderful great grandmother who I saw every single day when I was living next to her, I visited her before and after school, if she needed work I was there. I was absolutely adored by her stories. Her house and mine were back to back I climbed over one fence to get to my great grandmothers house. I absolutely miss this part of my life, because of how dear she was to me. Every time I saw her she was always trying to give me jewelry cause we wore the same ring sizes and often I would refuse.  She had made quilts, and it was so sad, you know if she was asking for spinach that some one had passed on. I remember when she had lost three friends in the same year and she was so upset about the spinach. Spinach casserole is what she made for the church after parties.


The Spinach Casserole – Church sign of Someone just Died.

Since my mothers death I have never been a person for church after parties. In fact, if I can avoid the whole funeral I will. It’s easier for me. But my great grandmother was made on tradition. She was an amazing woman. But she was in the later years in life, she would still get out every once in a while and garden with me. It did not happen as often as I liked it and she only came out for a moment but we took care of her home really well. Problems with the steps were often fixed by me at least temporary. The woman had so many stories that I will share with you in something more dedicated to her.

However if you can picture the great grandmother with her wrinkles and her smile behind large glasses, busty and a bad back to go with it, that was her, kind and sweet as pie. My dad was getting closer and closer to one of his break downs. I think I was about 14 years old when this happen so I’m not exactly sure on the date. But he had a studio he worked for years called Back To Nature – Taxidermy studio (Yeah did not mention he was a hunter and a taxidermist yet.) He came to visit us on Halloween season and it was the day after that I got a call from my Great Grandmother, and she demanded I come over right away.


He did what?! Don’t worry G’G’ I ‘m on my way!

I am not sure what went on in the mind of my dad at this point in time, she woke up from her nap and her house had been turned in to a zoo. My Great Grandmother I have only seen upset twice, in her whole life and this was one of the time. There was a certain distinction in her voice when she got upset, it was like the world had paused as the wrinkles became a bit more defined and her eyes would widen behind the magnifying glasses. She had a shaking in her voice that one could only sustain. There is a stillness in every move she made as if  she was marble. This woman was holding back all her anger. I knew if at that moment my dad were to get in to her house, there was a chance grandma would be as little Christian as possible.


The Christian F-U.

This is the moment where you stand back and look at my father and think to yourself ” What in the world are you doing?”  I arrive there and it was like a the Noah’s Ark of Missouri had crapped in her house. There was squirrels in her kitchen, about 3 of them, there was pigeons… in her home, she had an extra stray cat that was trying to claw the couch, there was pine cones from her cuckoo clock replaced with real ones so it threw the pendulums off.  So, I get in there and there is this cat up in the corner and its just hissing back at me. Apparently my dad went out and lured animals into her home, he could of been offering them drugs cause they were all insane. Instead one of the squirrels rushed off with this insane chatter, I had to chase out from under three beds, I finally caught him on the curtain which I had to pull down. Which I can understand why he was so pissed, he was probably relaxing in his little squirrel nest before crazy man in the fu manchu mustache squirrel-naps him to an old house of doilies and figurines.

I had him wrapped up in a blanket that I had to take outside. Even when I did the little fur ball was clenching on to the blanket for dear life. “No I don’t want to leave, that is the best place…. EVER… it smells like cookies…I promise not to eat the furniture!” It was one of the most difficult things to do you would think being higher up on the food change would make things better. But not this tiny terror, caught in the blanket, it shook like it was captured by the mental institution. It was throwing a fit and the only thing that I can compare it too is the actions that were done in The Great Out Doors. A family freaking out on an adventure while the great John Candy tries to direct on how things should go. It was an epic journey of failure. I rushed the beast with in the sheets out the door with the happiness that I thought it was over. Granted this last bit of the experience probably only lasted about thirty seconds but I am sure it felt more like 5 hours. I opened the blanket and began to shake it off but it rushed with a vengeance trying to climb back up the blanket to me.

An all out fight was waged as I shook the blanket with two hands trying to get rid of this thing. The squirrel jerked further and further down the blanket to the end and something in my mind had told me this was a bad idea I should stop … now. But the yelling of my great grandmother at the other animals in the house made me continue the  jerking of the blanket. The poor squirrel it held on with one paw, and then the other paw before it was launched in to the air. I saw the thing gain about twenty feet in the air as it shot in to the sky and then would start its descent in to the tree. It landed there of the branch and it STILL did not run. It stayed there on the tree staring and chattering away like a pissed off Speedy Gonzales.  I was expecting it to turn in to Taz from Looney Toons and just wreck the house after that.

Throw me in the air, I’ll be back after dark!

My grandmother gave another yell and we opened the doors for the flood gates of animals to come pouring out. Her birds in her cages were squeaking and cawing at every move we made. “No these are our company! what Do you think you are doing! You better put down my Niece RIGHT NOW!” It was total and utter chaos. My great grandmother had a cat pillow and there was the ragged feline on the couch who was perhaps the easiest of them all. My hand went back and I took off my shoe, with a near expert throw, mind you I spent most of my child hood out throwing the men in Saint Ann and Saint John during town fairs, the shoe went at the cat flying like a baseball and hit right next to the rear end.


Get out of here! She be Crazy!

The cat took out the door which calmed most of her pet’s down. Grandma was yelling about something else, and it was the one thing I could not stand, an opossum. I hate them, almost as much as I hate roosters the bad part is was the damn thing was backed in to a corner and normally they want to play dead and not move. This time this one was on the same crack as the others. It turned and hissed at me and immediately called me out. The Opossum had claimed my grandfathers room as his own and was going to take it too his last breath. I was stuck with grandmothers arsenal.


So they asked me what I was afraid of, and I said “Not a Damn Thing.”

Which would of been so cool if she had one, instead I was armed with metal dustpans, brooms and mops at the ready, I could of gone further and added bucket on my head and an apron covering my chest for this battle. I had laid under his hospital bed while I played a bad game of shuffle board and literally had to sweep-scoot- this thing to the street corner. It was a continual game of yelling and hissing back and forth between me and this oversize mutant rat.  It would turn back at me and make faces that just drew my own personal hatred of this animal even further. It was not JUST getting the animals out of the house, I had to get them off the property, my grandmother had tons of old vines and giant sweat peas that would of taken over her house if not cared for. There was tons of places for them to stay and hide. So you could see me running down banging the dustpan and the broom as I rushed to defend my grandmothers house till my last breath!


My houssssssssssssssse!

I’m not sure what is it about me and birds but we never seem to get along, I have an issue, it might date back to the parrot that often stopped my heart and damn near made me piss myself any time I was at my Uncles Davids. (Who just happens to be one of the most talented men I have ever had the privilege of knowing.) I swear the thing would just stay there and I would walk around the corner and it would make this screech that would scare the hell out of me. Between that and roosters you would think I would be okay with some kind of bird at some point. So just from the fear factor of parrots I had to deal with another scare factor.


What you got a problem with me?

If you want to picture me jumping and waving a shirt at this bird you can but it went in a little deeper then just that. The bird flew us from room to room.  I just had to deal with this same situation when my daughters had let in a bird by their window and it was stuck in the house for about an hour or two of trying to get it to understand the windows are not door. This adventure was coming to a close for me and my grandmother. We had successfully cleared out the house, grandmother I went to wash the blankets and re-hang the curtains and re-arrange all the furniture, we ended up finding a frog in the bath tub so that was easily let outside and was a bit easier to lure. I knew the expression my grandmother was going to make I was starting to apologize for my dad but she was the one who taught me not to. I had always wanted to be there to see this discussion take place between my dad and my great grandmother. But I think it was one of those things that was just left. However when ever I came to visit she would bring up the stories to my kids, and normally she said it with a smile but every once in a while you could see that look in here eyes.

ImageShhh! I’m not done complaining yet, you just hold on a moment.

Death of a Rooster

There are interesting ways the farm teaches you about death before any other area. You have that creature you love to feed and months later its laid out on the family table, stuffed and filled with vegetables that it use to run in. It is interesting when you think of the first death you have to experience. Not like a person, those are often more traumatic, often… Remember the words right here, often. The first death I ever physically witnessed was done by my father, out of all things it was a rooster, not just any ordinary rooster, and evil one.


Scariest thing on the Planet.

I was under the impression for my birthday I could have my party the way I wanted to, this was acceptable, and I was in love with Peter Pan, the boy who never grew up. He was the most splendid boy to ever not touch the world. I remember countless nights leaving my window open and was waiting for him to take me away. Peter Pan was very intelligent, he must have been a doctor in a previous life, he knew I was getting sick and needed my mother. So, he left me there to get pampered the next day.  When I was turning five I had decided we were going to have a party with a Tinkerbell and Pirate theme. Everyone from church and the community down the road was invited.

peterThey say you never get over your first love.

To prepare for this event there were things that were needed, Jason who lived down the road was lucky enough to be on a fruit and vegetable farm. This was the breaking in to my addiction. A horrible addiction one that only myself and Scooby Doo truly understand. There is something sinister about Velma, and the other members of Mystery Incorporated. I always tend to look at Scooby-Doo like a victim of circumstance. Scooby just wants to sit back and chill with his snacks in the Mystery Machine. While the others take his addiction and give him a type of pressure that only one with an addiction can suffer from.


When offered he is normally accepting but there are times his will power gets up so high he mutters the sound “Ruh-uh.” And this is his version of no, its normally followed by the shaking of his head. So his peers once more place an offer, this time knowing he will want more they up the anti. Scooby… I understand your pain. My addiction was strawberries, is strawberries. The neighbors farm had an entire acre that was given to just strawberries.

double-strawberryLet me just wipe that drool off the screen.

So my mother could get me to do about any task she wanted if she had a serious stash of strawberries. However, they were only a stash till I found them, then it was on, there was a discovery waiting to happen and it was my want in life to have an OD experience from strawberries. More often then not, I had devoured them all til I felt sick, sickly sick, the only kind cartoons feel where their face changes to the green color and their skin begins to lose it’s elasticity and droop off your face. Yes that kind of sick, shortly after I would pass out wake up refreshed and ready to try my hand at finding the other strawberries the next morning. No, there was no lesson learned there, to this day I am still defying the amount of strawberry consumption each chance I get.

sticker,375x360We had to gather an assortment of fruits for this party, so we had fruits of all kind even those I did not like or want to touch the fruit I loved dearly, in fear that the flavor of one would some how infect the flavor of another.  Mother had decided to make the game of Hide and Treat. It was like Easter there was piles of fruit in various spots through out the property and you had a basket that you had to fill. At the party we had just started this game. The eight of us rushed off in different directions and tried out best to find what fruits we could. This was an easy task and should have been a simple game but little did I know, I was going to be a victim of a most brutal assault.

Earlier that day the chickens were to be fed. The rooster, however normally ran about the farm doing what ever rooster things he wished. He must of been away when the corn bits were tossed in the golden glints on to the ground, or to be jumped upon by the chickens close by. This rooster must have skipped out on it. When he came around the corner, he was strutting. He must have been plotting what was going to happen. Walk up, check out the fruit, scare child, collect fruit and complete farm domination.  When the rooster had decided my pile was his, he displayed so by looking at me and cocking his head to the side.

roscocOh no girl, those ain’t yours uhhh uh.

It was questioning me on every move I made, every bond I break, every breath I take! It was worse then the Sting Stalker Singles that they use to sell! I had nothing more to do but decide to take my basket and try to shoo the rooster away. In my mind I had this planned out, one fail swing and down goes Tyson. But this was not the case. Tyson had other plans. I swung and Tyson moved in for the kill.

It was a run by wing buffing, left shots and right shots and no one could even see it coming, Tyson was a destroyer of dreams he was a goblin of desires and much like the Goblin King, he told me to turn back with his demonic bawk bawk. I was scared so I fled back to the table to get some reinforcements, I could of grabbed another pile of fruit and went on but this.. no, no this was needed. There was a lot going on in my mind. Did that rooster just challenge me? The most awesome Tiger Lilly to ever run with Peter Pan! No this was not happening! I refused to accept this I could feel it in every bone of my body, If I had known what chicken was made in to I would of been running for with full Braveheart Charge!

BraveheartThey might take our lives but they can  never take our strawberries!

It was at the moment of the yell, I felt like Leonidus, for my roar was strong and long. I am sure it echoed and reached every inch of the property. Still that rooster was not going to budge, I charged at it and it drew back and carried a weapon I had never known to exist. Its beak! I was unprepared I admit it, I waged war thinking I could over throw this, I was a fool, I was underestimating Tyson… At this very moment. I was General Custer.

Custer_Portrait_RestoredWhere’d all these Indians come from?

It was then that I knew this was bad. I was being pecked to death, the bird had become a massive beast set upon ripping the strawberries apart like well starved raptor. I knew that I was going to perish Tyson was not going to let me survive this, and much like the now chosen name of this rooster I remember many various bites to the ears. I had fallen down, victim to the insane skill the rooster was displaying it jumped on my back pushing talons on my shoulders and started to scratch, it came down with its beak, pecking at my neck. My father came in like Superman, but he looked more like Patrick Swayze.

superswayze He came in like a 49er, kicked the rooster like a field goal, it was mom and dad who leaned up my scratches and made sure I was all right. My dad had a big determination that evening, he took me out in to the chickens and he went with me and pulled out the rooster who had attacked me and was my victor in combat. I was a  very angered child, not even a single strawberry. When my father asked me if that was the chicken that had scratched me, I felt like Emperor Nero.


Thumbs… Down.

My father wanted me to see this and to understand I suppose of what was going to happen, he pulled out one of the largest knives we had for the cutting meat and he drug me out to wards the chopping post. The next few parts will get a little graphic living on the farm there is always some animal violence. So, sorry PETA. When we got out there mom had tied the rooster to the post.  I had no clue of the outcome of when a rooster or chicken dies, I had thought they fall lifeless to the ground and soon become the instrument of awesome in a WhizBang! However there was this stare that the Rooster gave me that I will never forget.

meanrosBawk Bawk….

The rooster expression was cold and calculated. Little did I know he was summoning the seed of Satan. I did not know there was things like Zombies. But that rooster was a zombie. Normally the chicken was tied both at the head and the legs to the post to make things quick and simple. However it was just a tie about the head, this must have been the roosters last request. My father moved to swing at the rooster, and plop came off the head dangling from a single string. The next pieces have haunted me for ever.


Its head hung there off the rope the same stare and evil look in its eyes as it watched me. Suddenly, the body began to move running after me and catching up. It was the Walking Dead the Poultry Edition. The bird was moving at speeds I didn’t think possible every time I turned around it was there with No-head, leaning and following me. It was like Mike the chicken with out a head but its evil possessed brother. I ran away from the area and it was still on my heels the every presence of this spawn of Satan was following me. I remember thinking “I will never eat chicken again or eggs or anything that has feathers. ” I was praying some how this bird was going to get me again. My screams were surrounded and as I ran I heard a sound behind me it was like the wind; it was something like a tomahawk. The sudden impact turned my attention back. I stood there my heart was racing as I stared to the size of the machete that was stuck in to the bird and in the tree.

I stood there in awe, in relief, as a saved by the man my father and his beastly arm that slaughtered off the demonic rooster. My father had turned to me and in that moment of his awestruck epicness. He leaned down to me and said at that moment.

“He’s not going to hurt you again now is he?”

No dad, he won’t. I stood there watching the corpse till the last bit of life twitched from his form. I stared knowing I was saved. There was something in me that understood what was coming next for me in life..

Fried chicken.

Swords and She-Ra


My Childhood and Teenage Years Growing Up With an

OCD Manic Depressive Bipolar Schizophrenic Father.


There is a small problem with growing up with Robin Williams as an Idol, he is paid to be crazy and spontaneous and absolutely hilarious; legally insane as he put it. So, with young idolizing I had done, I had thought my father was perhaps one of the most normal beings ever. He was funny to me and made me laugh tremendously at times. Other times this was not so much, I would stand back in constant shock about what he was doing and for the life of me could not fathom how these things connected to him.  But everything did, I grew up as the girl who would say… “Well that’s… my dad.” It wasn’t with pride though, least not most of the time; it was more often if not a way of not saying sorry but sympathizing with someone close by.  Someone sharing the same look of I cannot believe what this person is doing. Yeah, sometimes, you just want to tell them to go away.

barbradyBut still they stare and ask what is he doing? Somewhere in the pit of your stomach you just want to say “I have no idea.. we should really just walk away.” Leave him to his episode and then just let the world go in to chaos behind you back and you will know you are getting that call at 2 in the afternoon from a family member going to inform you on all the things your parent has done.

ImageRobin Williams you could of adopted me!

This is not a book about how horrible of a father I had that is not completely true. This book is called Hindsight for a reason. Years later, I look back and laugh at the situations that happen the off the wall actions and reactions that were done and it is more or less hilarious. At the time it was frightening, scary, embarrassing and just plain weird who knew.  This book is a list of my memories of situations that happened. I would love to crack open my father’s mind and let you in it for a look-see but that doesn’t seem to be the case. Anyway I hope this helps those of you who have a parent who is this way. Perhaps you can sit back and smile to the odd ball things your own family members have done in the past and bury whatever hatchets one may need to bury. After all, everything is better with Hindsight.



As a young girl I was in love with the He-Man and She-Ra cartoons the names were simple for a child to grasp, this was the core heart of my existence. I grew up on three acres of nothing but a small pond. There were three trees set out in the front yard, a cherry, a plum, and a crab apple.  There was a long rock road that was twisty that made it up to the house. In the front the large trucks with big signs that were orange, had the words displayed YELLOW on the front would pass by nearly every day in convoys over the hills area of Missouri. Our nearest neighbor was a few miles away. Civilization was about 35 minutes away.

ImageYeah, this is not yellow, and these trucks I wish I could of sued for mental issues on how many pets of mine they slaughtered. This and flat pet bodies on the asphalt : early childhood.

Isolated from the rest of the world, I believed everything was the way it should happen. We had a lot of animals from rabbits to giant geese; large turkeys and chickens, a giant snapping turtle, goats, roosters, arctic foxes and wolves. I had a zoo practically that was mine to play with whenever I wanted, I am pretty sure there was a donkey or something as well but who knew.  I had a full safari of animals that if I wanted could be released from their shackles and allowed to roam free. Insert an evil laugh! For the most part, I loved my life in Pea Ridge, there was no one to tell me or look at my father oddly there were no faces wondering why this insane being was let out. No comments on how normal people do not act this way. It was just… free.

The youngest incident I can remember was I was finished with my Peter Pan obsession. I had watched the movies so many times it was known word for word in my 4 year old mind. I had a head dress made from turkey feathers from Jake, the turkey, who was last thanksgivings dinner. The shows were changing on the television it was no longer the age of repeating stories and Captain Kangaroo. It was a new age a changing age.. It was the Age of HE-MAN. But honestly, what father wants their daughter drooling over barbarians with swords as they go to make bad guys flee the scene! It might be why so many of us who grew up in this area would love to scream out obscenities about a Castle Grayskull and smite our obstacles, it would make life at work interesting. Corny jokes paved the way for brain cell destruction. You laughed cause Chisel Jaw was throwing his head back and laughing. She-Ra was made for girls, they had to separate the television show cause it was absolutely foolish to focus the shows for both girls and boys.  The girls came out in easy to remember names and brightly colored outfits.

ImageStripperella? Missing She Ra Extra?

I had it in my mind I could be She-Ra, no this was a fact. I imitated her moves followed her every course of action.  Catch Phrases were great, “For the Honor of Grayskull!”  I said them after everyone drilling them in to my parents brain like some odd form of guerrilla warfare.

“Cynthia, you need to go and clean your room”

“What foooooooooooooooooooor mom….”

“For the………… Honor ……of………… Grayskull……”

You could hear her slowly losing all will to speak.

“For the Honor of Grayskull!”

— And some where in there I’m certain my closet was destroyed shortly afterwards.

So I finally decided. I had learned they ways, I fought the enemies with honor in my heart. Though they could not stand a chance, I was more like… Glorian, from JourneyQuest in every single aspect.


Pretty much.

After defeating the live stock and any stray creatures through out the yard with sticks I was certain I had leveled up, and it was time for some better weaponry. I had devised a plan, my parents had said I could be anything I wanted to be, anything at all. All I had to do would be to try at it. So I took that plan and in my just turned five year old mind I believed it was time to ask the ultimate question.

“Dad… I want to be She Ra..”

“But you don’t have a sword.”

“I could if you made me one.”

“I am not going to make you a sword.”

I figured if I found a good reason why I needed a sword I might be able to get one. So I devised a plan. Swords were needed for things of defending the house. So if there was a reason that the house was in danger I might be able to get a sword. I was delighted at the thought and quickly began to plot against them. In our home you could not leave food in any room but the kitchen. So opening the doors and sprinkling bread crumbs is a serious no no. I am the parents nightmare.

ImageOh yeah, worst nightmare.

I took animals in, I fought them off in the living room with a broom and chased them through out the house defending on the family homestead. For honor.. no not for honor there was a blade I needed. My cousins had heard of the fact that my sword had still not been made. That I was not She Ra, and this would never do. Instead of playing He-Man and She-Ra we were reduced to playing Ghost Busters. Which would of been awesome, but there were no female ghost busters, my lack of male genitalia was again ruining my want to play with cousins. (Yes the worst sentence in here.)  It was after this one incident that I refused to do anything else but play She-Ra and He-Man the next time they came over.

So, my cousins had come to play, my aunt had come over to bring her 2 sons and sit and talk religion.  I refused to play, I refused to leave my room. The day went on and I was not going to play. I had no intention of saying “hi” to anyone. Hours went by and several times they had come to check on me. Soon it was bed time, and my mother was worried so when she was asking me what I needed to feel better, I told her. “A sword.” It was then she had a discussion with my father about making me the sword. In the morning I woke up to my father hammering away at his make shift forge. Days went by, and more and more coal was needed so we had to gather more sticks and trees and logs.

My dad had said he wanted to make me a fantastic sword, one that only She-Ra could wield. So scrap metal after scrap metal, was welded on to this sword till it was 6 feet long the edges were rounded. There was a smile that no one could take off my lips. I ran for it, I went for it and dispute my efforts… I could not lift the sword. 2 days of trying but like all good stories. On the third day. I became She-Ra. I had made a rope and went out with my sword attached to it and hung it over my shoulder and dragged my sword across the yard.  There was nothing else with in me but the urge to fight my enemies.

ImageSquash them…. squash them all.

About a mile away lived my friend Jason and his father and they were taking their Sunday walk from church. in the yard they see this child tied to like a long pipe and running circles in the yard. Any Family Services worker would of came up and took me away. The rope had slipped so many times it fell off and was moved and I looked like I was a caned victim. Our neighbors came out in to the yard, and called my parents out. I am not sure what the conversation was. I am sure it had to do with me and the self inflicting marks I was making cause I was bound and determined to be able to carry that sword.

In the end mother had told me the rest of the story. I remember getting drug off shortly after my father began to rip his shirt off and screaming about being He-Man. There was a lot of confrontation and mother had stated several time that this was going a bit out of hand. In the end it was the image of my father running down the road stripped down to his underwear doing a Tarzan chant about the Power of Grayskull, the neighbors were steadily increasing their speed in front of him till they got off the property. To this day, I am not sure how my dad had decided he was going to be He-Man or how he talked the neighbors in to letting him chase them. I would like to think the world was like that, my father in his fruit of the looms running down the road with a six foot sword in hand protecting us from a neighbor who was worried over my own safety.

At the time yes, I was the bad little kid that desperately wanted to teach herself a lesson. I was the child that would not take no for an answer. The neighbors were not upset at my dad, They were dear friends on till our departure of that wonderful home. But the lesson that I really learned that day, is parents have ways to make you regret asking for a gift they did not want you to have.


You’ll shoot your eye out kid.

It was not till I was 17 that I asked for another sword. Once more my father had found I had another obsession. Adrian Paul, and the Highlander. I showed him a picture of a fan blade that cost almost 200 dollars, and my dad returned me with a welded sheet metal sword, with a highlander bumper sticker on it, roughly about 7 feet long, lesson has been learned and relearned.

The Abouts.

This is my own personal book; the things that happened in this book are about as real as they can be. The comments, the actions, and my memory of what had happened were things that could only be contained in this. I am a mother of some wonderful children, but the parenting skills between me and my father are completely different. My father has a few mental disorders but before that had been truly discovered he broke down having issues which went about clock work on a five year base. Every five years he would have a serious melt down where he needed some real help.

What I hope to happen with this is it gives people the heart to continue. There is hope after diagnosis; you do not have to break ties with those in your family that have the issues that are never met. I thought for a long time there was no way to check what was broken. The stories at the time were scary and troublesome; some are even plain destructive but, looking back on them I am thankful they happened.