"If I had a remembrance book" is how Laura Ingalls Wilder began her story. She didn't keep a journal as a child. It wasn’t until her later years at age 63 that she was able to recount the stories and write about them in vivid detail of her childhood growing up on a farm as a Frontier girl. Post mortem, she became one of the most popular and beloved American writers to date.

She wrote about her family struggles and all the hardships they encountered. Crops being destroyed, her sister Mary blinded after a bout of Scarlet fever, fires, deaths from typhoid, etc. etc. But instead of her stories focusing on the sadness and tragedy they endured, she focused on the simple joys in life. Playing in the creek with her dog Jack, fishing there with Pa, or panning for gold with her friends. Taking a trip into town on the family wagon, or staying up late to listen to Pa play his fiddle.

The first half of my childhood was a modern day version of “Little House on the Prairie”. I grew up in an old barn that was restored and converted into a little house. Every morning one of my chores was to go down to the henhouse and collect eggs from the chickens and help Dad fill up the pigs trough full of "slop". After working 12 hour shifts, Dad hunted and trapped animals to sell their furs on the side to be able to afford nice Christmas gifts for us. Just like Little House, there was always an important lesson at the end of every day.

One of my big treats was going fishing with Dad and listening to him play his guitar and banjo. That was his version of telling us bedtime stories. Instead he would make up songs and sing them to us, near our old pot bellied woodstove that we would sometimes cook on. We even had a well that you could draw up water with a tiny pail and a smokehouse where he cured our meat. Don't worry, we didn't have an outhouse, thank God.

My playground was a giant mountain where an enormous white billy goat lived and we could always tell when he was coming to steal the dog’s food because he reeked of this strong offensive odor that to this day if I close my eyes and concentrate hard enough I can still smell. There were creeks to swim in on hot summer days, caves to explore and vines to swing on. On my mountain there were huge mossy boulders to climb and pretend they were the Star Ship Enterprise ready to beem us to a new planet where there would be Tribbles and Gorns..

Quality time with Dad meant going out on a rainy night to pick night crawlers out of holes in the wet ground that would be used as bait. Going blue fishing on the ocean and clam digging from shore were other fun times. We would fish for Bullheads (catfish) and we’d come home with our catch frying them up for dinner just in time for Creature Features. Bullheads are great eating by the way, with meat pinker than salmon. Hellgrammiting and Crayfishing on the river was probably my most favorite of all the pastimes from my country girl upbringing.

On the river where my family Fly Fished, we would turn over rocks on sandy bars and wait for a Hellgrammite to jump out so we could catch him! This was great fun for a kid. Only they were nasty little critters that would pinch if you grabbed them by the tail or thorax. You have to grab them just behind the head so they couldn't bite you. Of course I had to prove to Dad that I wasn't afraid and I had to be as tough as my brothers..

Hellgrammites are the larvae stage of the Dobson Fly, which is a fly that trout like to feed on. Hellgrammites live under rocks in this immature stage for up to 3 years. When the adults finally emerge to mate, they will only live for a few days more. It's sad really, the life of a Hellgrammite...

You might wonder where I am going with this family history and entomology lesson on river larvae. Well, this past weekend after probably 25 years, I went on a super secret Hellgrammite mission with my Dad, aka the “Old Man” as we affectionately refer to him. I can’t tell you why we needed Hellgrammites just yet because its top secret info that I can’t divulge for another week……but something tells me the live Hellgrammites and documented footage may involve the humorous razzing of a well deserving family member for his Hellgrammite-like behavior..

See, I enjoy my trips to the salon for waxing and coiffing. I Love my juicy sweats and designer jeans. I clean up well for an evening in the city or a Broadway show. But deep, deep down, I am still just like Laura Ingalls, an introspective farmers daughter. Most in comfort and content while in the great outdoors. Down by the river with dear old Dad.

I bet if Laura Ingalls was still alive today, she would keep a blog.

Here’s a little clip from my remembrance book.

Click to view the Great Hellgrammite Caper of 2005!
Click anywhere on the black screen to advance to the next slide..

I'm dedicating this entry to "Heat"...who "gets it" :)