Many of you have asked that I document the crazy experiences I had growing up on a farm. Many of my California friends haven't heard these stories, so it's my pleasure to introduce them to you today. Although they are much funnier when told in person, I'll do my best to capture each moment.


THE LAGOON

We lived in Bagdad, Kentucky (yes, Bagdad). The town consisted of one general store, one bank, and one feed store. Every good rural town has to have a feed store. Our home was at the base of a large hill, and most of our land backed up to it. Across the one lane road was a creek, and the farm next to us had beautiful horses. For some reason, my parents thought it would be a fantastic idea to move the house, yes, the HOUSE, to the back of the property; which was on top of the hill. So, it began in the late fall. Construction workers created a driveway up the steep hill, and soon our house was amazingly moved to the top of the hill.

Now. Let me remind you that this was in the middle of nowhere. It isn't quite as simple to get water, electric, etc. when you move your home in the dead of winter to the top of a hill. Mom? Dad? Are you out there? Why did you do this to us?!?!

Some official person suggested along the way that we create a "lagoon" of sorts off to the side of the house. So, they came, they bulldozed the trees, they went. The lagoon began to fill with water from the rain and snow, creating a perfect ice skating rink. Again, for some odd reason we had a collection of ice skates, and off we went to skate in the winter.

The Lagoon also made a perfect rise in the land to target shoot. Shoot, as in guns. Gasp, yes we grew up with guns. Yes, we even killed animals. So one sun shiney day, my parents asked me to take my then 4 year old brother out to shoot the bb gun. We climbed the side of the lagoon, stood on the embankment and aimed for the trees. I showed Sam what to do, then turned the safety off. My sweet, precious, innocent little baby of a brother declared: "I'm gonna shoot you!" So what did I do? What any 10 year old sister would. I RAN. I ran and ran and ran and wouldn't you know it, I heard the 'pop', felt the pain, and crashed to the ground. While Sam I'm sure was clueless as to what he had done, I stood up, felt the back of my head, saw the blood and ran for home.

Yes. My four year old brother shot me in the back of the head. While I was running. He's in the Army now. Nice aim, kid.

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