Our back yard was as big as the world, and we filled it with the imagination of a clever boy and a girl.
When dad built that sandbox and filled it with sand, we built worlds for our toys and towers so grand.
How could a little wooden box be so amazing and cool? The thing got even better when mom and dad put in a liner and made it a pool!!!
Hey little sister, you're really great
And it's killing me to see you in your state.
Please come back, and come back soon, we're getting tired of this spoon.
And it's killing me to see you in your state.
Please come back, and come back soon, we're getting tired of this spoon.
Note: I'm finding some old fotos of us as kids that are bringing back a flood of memory. I thought I had kind of come to grips with Misty's condition, but being reminded of the little moments of our childhood has reacquainted me with a person I had forgotten. Someone I thought didn't exist any more. A vulnerable and scared little boy who is worried about his baby sister.
I asked my Dad if he built the fence (I assumed he had) or if it was there when we moved into the house in 1973-74. He explained that yes, he had built the fence form salvaged material he and a friend (Tommy Burney, brother of Conny Burney) recovered as they tore down a house not far from where we lived.
"There was so much lumber," he told me, "that we finally just got tired of dismantling stuff. It was HUGE house. I mean, really, really giant. So we decided we were done. Oh, and by the way... that fence was NOT that colorful!"
Which is true. I remember some slight color variation, but this was a LOT more fun to paint.
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