The makings of a life

One day I will write a book. A memoir perhaps. This is why I love it when people do crazy wonderful or just crazy things in my life. One day they'll be a chapter in my story. But don't make me hate you or I'll edit you out. Or perhaps it's worse revenge to leave some people in the story. I've been meaning to sit down and write a vague, more factual, time-line type of life story. Obviously it doesn't happen. It's too much like journaling, which I loathe. Dear journal..blah blah. Who cares? I think writing is meant to be read and shared. Not locked with a key and kept secret. However, I'm thinking I'm just not ready for some people to know some things about my life and me. That is why ONE DAY I will write a book. But, in order to help motivate me to write my lifestory I am going to write down as many snippets of memories as I can think of in five minutes. Ready. Go.
Odd that this came to me first, but I remember picking up grasshoppers in the yard at our old Hyrum house with my cousins. I believe I chased my sisters with them. I went through a "bugs are cool" phase when I was younger. Now I just squish them.

{Sorry, Mom} I remember finding used tampon applicators in the trash and using them to make birdfeeders. Since I didn't have birdseed, I just spread peanut butter on them and hung them from a tree in the FRONT yard! Ugh..how embarrassing for all those involved.

Once, I found a garter snake in the garden at our house in Iowa. I named him Ziggy and I love him for about twenty minutes. Then the neighbors boys tried to feed him and broke his jaw. He died. Poor Ziggy.

On that note, I once found a dead mouse outside and named him Timothy. I put him in a Jiffy muffin box and buried him. I didn't understand why everyone thought that was so gross. I'm surprised I survived that.

I used to set up a stand outside our house and sell rocks. Yeah..rocks. I thought they were neat. I failed to realize that people could get rocks anywhere...for free...

I was always a devil or a clown for Halloween. Except for that one year. That time I was Wonder Woman.

I still miss the nights in summer when I was about 12. We would go to Quintin's house {it was pink} and play night games. I wish I could still do that. His mom made the best doughnuts.

Once we put Quintin's cat inside the grill. We thought we were hilarious. Don't worry..it wasn't on.

I think that's all I've got for now. Except for one thing that only a select few will understand. They probably don't read this anyway...but...corndog.