Memories

I was looking through old pictures the other day. Maybe I shouldn't do that close to my birthdays, because I was hit with this overwhelming nostalgia for my early childhood.

I had it a lot easier than most, but it still wasn't that great. We lived out in the country, down the road from a dairy. Their cow pasture met our backyard. I don't rember if there was a smell involved (and how could there not have been). I remember feeding apples from our apple tree to them over the electric fence.


I remember jumping in leaf piles my mom raked. And helping her plant the gardens. And when the tomatoes were ripe, she'd give me the salt shaker off the table and I'd eat them under the swingset.

My memory is unreliable. It takes some time before I remember the fights. And the angry scenes after the separation. I remmeber those as an observer. There's no emotion to them.

So anyhow, here's a picture of me at three.