We trembled around the crackling campfire as our uncle told us the story of Potato Pete. He was a mean old man that used to live by a field close to where we were now. He hated almost everything, but the thing he hated most was when kids drove past his field. They were way too noisy and always littered in his field. One day, Potato Pete decided to do something that would keep those kids away from his field forever. He went to the store and he bought a huge sack of potatoes. The next time they drove by, he would be ready for them. The kids went for a drive that day and when they went past Potato Pete’s field they were laughing and chatting as usual. Then they heard a noise that made them fall silent. Boom! Something had just hit the car right above their heads. They out the windows but couldn’t see where the noise had come from. Boom! They had been hit again, now on the side of their car. Boom, Boom, Boom! They could see the potatoes now; they were flying from everywhere. The kids drove away as fast as they could, all the while being pelted by potatoes. They never came back by Potato Pete’s field again. Legend had it …show more content…
But it was just a story, wasn’t it? The next day I woke up without a worry on my mind. I fought with my siblings about who got to eat the last powdered sugar donut. Being the youngest, I obviously lost. As soon as we were done with breakfast, my cousins and I ran over to the lake to go for a quick swim. When we got back I heard that we were going to go for a ride through the country side. All of my cousins piled into the back bed of an old, beat up pickup, but me and a few of my younger cousins were told that we had to sit inside the cab of the pickup because we were too little. I was disappointed that I didn’t get to sit by everyone else. I was old enough, wasn’t I? I grumbled about having to sit in the cab to my dad, but he still wouldn’t let me sit in the
Sammy squirrel had no idea what Turkey Tom was talking about. “That silly turkey” said Sammy squirrel, “do you have no brain? For you are doing a very dangerous thing. Someday one of these cars is going to squash you. “Someday “said Turkey Tom,” you will see just how important I will be.” Then Turkey Tom carried on. Time went by fall and winter in every morning Sammy squirrel watched Turkey Tom walked down to the junior high early in the morning and every day he would frustrate the people driving. Until one day, the weather was not good the snow was coming down and it was very difficult to see. One of the students from the college step down of the curb onto the street. Turkey Tom ran into the street as fast as he could. Because as you see he knew that drivers had a hard time seeing, on this very wintry day. All of this sudden the car saw a Turkey Tom and slammed on their brakes barely missing Turkey Tom and the student. The student and the driver were so thankful that Turkey Tom was there to stop the traffic. Later, that day Sammy squirrel said to Turkey Tom,” you're right. For today I see how important you are. Turkey Tom explained to Sammy squirrel, that each day he goes to the junior high and he sees very important people wearing yellow coats and carrying sticks in the
It was a clear sunny day, spare the few clouds in the sky, the kind that children are so fond of pointing at and calling a dog or train, down the gravel driveway to the barn and house of Graystone stables. Up in their unseen perches, birds call out dutifully, whether they are asking for help or seeking a mate, their chirps and squawk all blend together to form a type of chorus. But every now and then a bird will quit the choir to seek the comforts of the grass. All of the birds were scared from the ground though when they heard the soft puts of a tractor passing by on its way to the barn. The rusted and dented John Deere tractor worked its way slowly to the barn, carrying in its front loader one black dog, panting happily at the prospect of
The problem we know. Who has a garden in which feels a mole , immediately thinks about how he poisoned him best, ausräuchert , captures in traps , to then kill him , or equal to ignite gasoline in the aisles . Finally, there's the peaceable neighbors , sitting for hours on the terrace to impale at the slightest movement in a mound of dirt , with a brand -tipped lobe , the mole .
I recall one time in particular when I was ten years old. It was a beautiful, warm summer day and my brother, sister’s and I were playing in the yard while Daddy was mowing the lawn. He, like Sedaris’s father, insisted that everything be picked up out of the yard before mowing. He warned us of the horrible accidents that could occur if the mower blade slung a piece of metal or wood from beneath its deck, such as putting someone’s eye out or impaling them in some other way. He constantly reminded us to keep our feet away from the lawnmower for fear of having our toes cut off. This particular day, Daddy suddenly stopped the lawnmower, sat down on the picnic bench, and called all of us kids over to him. He sat there white faced and trembling while pointing to his shoe. The tip of his shoe was completely gone. He was afraid to remove the shoe for fear his toes would no longer be there. My brother, sisters and I stood there with mouths agape, wondering what would happen next. Daddy untied his shoe and slowly pulled his foot out of the shoe. We watched in fearful anticipation. He set the heel of his foot on the ground and waited for what seemed like forever, as we held our breaths, before he finally attempted to expose the damage the lawnmower had created. He removed his sock, wiggled his toes, and gave us all a good talking to because this could have
As my family piled into our car for our four-hour drive, I sincerely hoped my brothers wouldn’t ruin the best chance that we’ve had in a long time. They were already arguing about who got what video game, and were not making my mom and dad feel any better about going. We were going to Illinois, to Chicago, to be even more specific. Chicago was the city I’d been dreaming about visiting for a long time. (Well, that and New York.) I could not believe that my parents were getting out of their comfort zone and taking us to a big city.
The trip to Canada was about two days long by car. On the way there we stayed in a hotel overnight. When we got to the hotel we took our luggage to our rooms. We went down stairs and we found the swimming pool, we went swimming and then we went to bed. The next morning we got up and packed and we were bock on the road. It was kind of fun because we had to cross the border into Canada. We had to show them our passports and our birth certificates to get across. On the way to go to our cabin we saw a bear cross the road in front of us. Then when we got to the cabin we
My mother was always stuck watching and taking care of her younger siblings. Sometimes she would get in trouble for not making sure they stayed out of trouble. Not having her own privacy was common for her, since they lived in a...
Running around in the yard on a warm summer evening. No shoes are needed for this activity, they thought. My mother sitting next to her grandfather, swinging her bare feet from the old wooden bench out back. Her fondest memory was unfolding in front of her eyes. Uncle Scott and Cousin Kevin were running around yelling “throw it to me, to me.” My mother’s grandfather was throwing the baseball back and forth with the boys as my mother watched. “I loved watching the boys push and shove each other to be the one to catch the ball.” my mother said. As my mother bonded with her grandfather, they could hear the okra popping in the grease and the smell of the cheesy mashed potatoes lingering through the kitchen window. As grandma finished with dinner, she came outside and saw that the kids didn’t have shoes on. My mother vividly remembers this part of the story because she said “one thing that I remember is that maw maw never raised her voice very often.” Grandma looks sternly at Grandpa and shouts “what
It was the Monday before Thanksgiving. I was out of work at the time so I got up around nine o’clock. I wasn’t feeling well, like I had eaten something that just was not agreeing with me. So I rolled out of bed and went downstairs. My girlfriend and her mom were at the kitchen table working on decorations for the party they were hosting for the holiday.
We went to New Mexico for a week to build a playground. The trip was long and hot but it was worth it. The playground was going to be built at a Manuelito Najavo Childrens Home in Gallup, New Mexico. In the middle of their dorms. We arrived at a cottage and starting unpacking, choosing rooms, and all that. Dinner came, we all took showers and went to bed.
It was the last Saturday in December of 1997. My brother, sister, and I were chasing after each other throughout the house. As we were running, our parents told us to come and sit down in the living room. They had to tell us something. So, we all went down stairs wondering what was going on. Once we all got down stairs, the three of us got onto the couch. Then, my mom said, “ Well…”
On that fateful day in March, I was a couple months shy of my third birthday. My family and I lived in New Mexico at the time and were renting a house with an outdoor in-ground pool. The day was beautiful. I was outside with my oldest sister Rachel and my father. Rachel was diligently reading curled up on a bench that sat against the house, and my father was mowing the backyard. My mother and my other sister were in the house. Off to one side of the house there was a group of large bushes. I was playing over there with one of her large cooking pots, off in my own little world. At one point while amusing and en...
I can remember the day that my cousin Andrew got shot. Andrew wasn’t really my cousin. Andrew was my babysitter. Andrew wasn’t an average babysitter he never took care of me for money, he really loved my family. When Andrew would babysit me he would always bring his friends over.
So my dad, my dad’s friend, my uncle and I all rode in my dad’s truck to the farmer’s house in Grain Valley, Missouri. Once we arrived at the farmer’s house, we saw a bunch of longhorns. We heard them mooing and their horns clanging on the metal fence, “CLANGE, MOO, CLOP.”
It was early morning of Christmas eve, the year 2002, my mom, sister, and I started on our journey to South Carolina from Florida to visit my grandparents. The weather was beautiful, like a hot summer day in the month of December, which in South Carolina it was cold. Here we go to the wilderness, no street lights, no sidewalks, and deers running everywhere. My grandparents ' red brick home in the countryside with fields across the street, wooded areas in the backyard, pigs in fences, and plenty of vegetables growing of all sorts. It was a joyous time. Unsupervised playing in the yard, at midday my grandparents would take me and my sister to the store for lunchables, and then back to jumping on the trampoline until dark falls. As the evenings drew near my grandfather would leave his rocking chair and walked to feed the pigs and harvest fresh beautiful bright colors of vegetables. Of course, I loved helping him but afraid of the pigs, telling my grandfather “be careful ' '. Late night I would hear all kinds of noises which was scary. After dark I would go to sleep as soon as possible for an early morning rise. When