Sometimes I wonder why I blog. I started this blog to talk about things in my life kind of like a journal. To share my thoughts and fears, but then I was scared for people to read what I had to say. My childhood was my childhood and I understood it but a lot of people would think different and I would not want anyone thinking my family was bad even though my parents are not alive to read what I say. My dad loved his family with all of his heart but he had an alcoholism problem and he never over come his addiction. I would love to share my stories of my childhood because they are my memories and has odd as some may think it was my life. I have had people to tell me I should write a book but I am so weary of being judged. If I told my story I would want to tell it the way I remember it.
I think I will try a few stories from around age 4. We lived in Ramsuer NC in the country. We lived in a single wide trailer and my dad had a horse and me a pony. I had two dogs Whitey and brownie. I know very creative names for a white dog and a brown dog. I also had cat named Kitty Tom. I remember one time I was outside playing and decided I wanted to ride my pony. I called my pony over to the gate so I could climb onto his back. I rode him around in the pasture when he decided to go into the barn. At the time my dad had a big white horse and my pony stopped right behind him in the barn. I had been taught not to be behind a horse because it could kick you. I got scared and started screaming and crying for my mom to come and rescue me. It seemed like it took for ever for her to finally her me crying and screaming. I never did it again. This is a simple little story to start with. I have a few more that involve the farm and my animals. I might go try and find some pictures to go along with the next story.