Once again...

I am not going to make any false promises about the level of commitment to this blog but I will commit to finishing this one.

I seem to be surrounded by inspiration lately. My family is blogging away and my daughter is threatening to take over the duties if I cannot keep some sort of schedule and then I read my sister in-law's blog about memories of her parents house and growing up and I thought... "I could write something about that too..."

My family moved around quite a bit, in fact I remember hearing one of my friends say they were moving feeling the sadness come over me about loosing them only to learn they were just moving across town... I did not even know you could do that! When we moved it was by several states, continents even! That being said, I have a few memories that have stuck with me from various homes we lived in that when I think about them, realize how young I was, I get a little nervous as the reality of my own children's ages set in.

There was Maryland, we had a house on a hill with a meadow behind us and I used to have to cross the meadow to get to my friends house. My Grandmother on my mom's side painted a picture of that house which we had hung up for years.

Also in Maryland (Hagerstown) my parents were the 'house parents' for the choir at Broadfording Christain Academy. As a family we actually lived in the school and at one time had two separate (dorm) rooms (separated by a hallway) where my brother (Jay) and I stayed and my sister (Kristine) and my parents were in the other room. I used to ride my bike all throughout the school during the summer months, down the stairs, through the hallways through the parking lot. We used to use the school's cafeteria kitchen and I would stand in the walk-in refrigerator and see how long I could take the cold.

Broadfording had a terrible pigeon problem. They would sit up on the ledges of the old school and pepper the parking lot, people and anything else underneath them with poop. My dad took it upon himself to rid the campus of the annoying birds and I was going to help. At first he tried to shoot them with a bow and arrow, but it was not accurate enough, the arrows were hard to retrieve and some... well some we never found (and we would not watch the local news on those days). My dad also owned a shotgun which made its way out the door, pointed at a line of pigeons and then my dad realized that while hitting a pigeon was guaranteed, so was the windows surrounding the pigeon. After a few conversions with friends he burrowed a small rifle perfect for the job and the next thing you know we are picking off pigeons on the weekends. My job was to grab them by their feet (after they fell) and take them to the dumpster. I am not sure how hygienic that was for a 4/5 year old and I blame that experience as to wha I am loosing my hair today.

Enough for now... but more to come!