Guest Blog by Sherrilee
Most of my growing up years were spent in a big city in the Midwest, where the wildlife consisted mostly of squirrels and sparrows. So it was a big deal when we vacationed every summer in the northern part of Wisconsin at the family homestead. We saw deer from the car windows and even the occasional black bear at the town dump. When I was seven, an animal park opened up in St. Croix Falls, which was along the route my family always drove to get to Wisconsin.
Fawn Doe Rosa was (and still is) a place where you can feed and pet a variety of animals, from deer to ponies to geese and ducks. Always looking for a way to break up the long drive to and from up north, I’m sure my parents were delighted to find anything to get us girls out of the car and out of their hair for awhile.
That first year, when I was seven, my sister and I wandered all over the park. Except for dogs and cats, I had never had any interaction with an animal before and was a little leery of the deer, some of whom were bigger than I was. So I opted for the smaller and safer geese and ducks that abounded at the park. At one point, as I was feeding some geese along the little pond, a young elk spotted me.
Clearly understanding that I was the repository of food, he headed right for me, although I didn’t notice him, so intent was I on my task. My father, who was capturing our day with the camera, snapped a shot as the elk approached me, but didn’t feel the need to warn me. Of course, even though the elk was quite small (as elk go), he did scare me out of my wits and I stepped into the pond and got my feet wet.
It took my mother several minutes to get me to approach the poor elk, who was probably as scared by my antics as I was by his, but was willing to forgive me for my outburst, since I still had food. Within a little bit, I was petting him and feeding him, like he was no more different than the family dog.
I think about this day often, as the teenager and I still visit Fawn Doe Rosa at least once a summer. What would have been a scarring experience that scared me off animals for a lifetime, turned out to be the beginning of a lifelong love of creatures great and small. We trek out to our two zoos here several times a year, love the Wolf Center in Ely, visit any animal park we find along the way and I believe my love of animals may have rubbed off; the teenager has expressed an interest for a career with animals, although it’s still a little too early to tell.
Has being afraid of anything ever led to something good for you?
Trail Baboon 
Great post, Sherrilee! We are going to have to check out Fawn Doe Rosa next summer.
Good question too, I am off to give it a good ponder.
LikeLike
Rise and Shine Babooners!
So which darling little blonde girl is you Sherriliee?
When I was little I was influenced by some TV or film femme fatale who was batting her eyelashes and wanting of rescue by a big strong prince. My wonderful Uncle Jim took us to ride horses in a pasture and I tried the routine I had seen on him. To be sure, the horse was awfully big, and it was intimidating, but I overdid that act! He said something like, “Oh, come on Jack Sprat, this is fun. Knock it off. This is how you mount a horse Indian Style.” He then demonstrated Leapfrogging over the tail end of a horse and riding bareback with only the reigns on a horse. We did that all afternoon and I had So Much Fun! Got over that pretty quick. And I learned that you can learn not to be afraid.
Off to the day. Happy Friday Baboons.
LikeLike
I’m the barefoot one with the white shirt.
LikeLike
wonderful story, Sherrilee and great pictures of your family and the elk. what a pretty critter he was!
i’m usually not afraid of much. oh, i worry plenty but not about things that might hurt me. a little fear would have helped yesterday when i went into T’s loafing area to attach a horse blanket to the Gentlemen’s Club back door to keep the winter winds out but make it easy in and out for them. just suffice to say, breeding season is not a good time to turn your back on a 185 pound buck who is feeling very amorous. today i feel like i’ve been hit by a train – certainly not hurt, but stiff and achey 🙂
a gracious good morning to You All!
and thanks, Sherrilee, for keeping us company while Dale is vacating!
LikeLike
Good lesson, Barb…reminds me of the time my neighbor’s steer got amorous with him…1000 lbs of beef on two hind feet was pretty scary.
Not to detract from Sherrilee’s sweet story, but Barb’s story reminds me of the times when my ex-husband was approached by an amorous mare…though she was more subtle than the above mentioned males…
LikeLike
An amorous steer, cynthia? Haven’t they had their amorosity removed? We once had a very amorous steer and my father told me I was nuts, until he realized it was the steer who was nuts, well maybe “nut” is the word.
LikeLike
Barb, just a reminder from the Goat Trauma folks:
Never, under any circumstances, turn your back on a goat. This is Rule Number One of Goat Trauma Avoidance.
And rule #3: Stay alert. Goats are deceitful and can hide just about anywhere.
LikeLike
So, cynthia, have you survived all your rural life traumas?
LikeLike
yeah, and beef aren’t as cute either. do they smell as “interesting” as goat bucks do?
LikeLike
My HS girl friend was afraid of cows but agreed to ride horseback double through our pasture with her in the back. Some of you innocents may not know that cows, the female type, communicate their amorosity by climbing up the back of other animals. So as we rode by the cows, can you see this coming, up the back of the horse came a cow in heat. At her panic I tried to explain that the cow no doubt never even noticed here there.
LikeLike
Clyde, one would think a steer (or gelding) wouldn’t have such urges, but I have come to believe that there is a strong connection with the brain…my gelding at 26 (having been gelded at 3) is still “servicing” his mares each spring.
LikeLike
Nice story, Sherrilee, and the photos are sure cute. I hope you don’t mind learning that your “elk” boyfriend is actually a fallow deer, the prettiest deer in Europe. If he told you he was an elk . . . well, guys sometimes lie to pretty girls.
When I was in graduate school American life was being revolutionized by computers. Like most liberals of my generation, I hated them. We blamed computers for sucking the beauty and variety out of everyday life, denying us choices and freedom. I might have had a t-shirt that said: “I’m a human being. Do not bend, fold, staple or mutilate.” If you understand the reference, you are probably an old fart like me. Clyde will know.
Now, of course, I adore computers. They help me do my work, educate me, amuse me, bring beauty into my life and make it possible to converse with my best friends. And now I know that all the evil I associated with computers was really a mix of ignorance and not understanding that it was lousy software, not machines, that made computers so spooky once.
LikeLike
Aaah… this would explain why my whole life this story has been told about the “fellow” who scared me!
LikeLike
Remember how we used to bend fold and mutilate to make a human being noticew or card and fix our problem.
LikeLike
would have never thought of stapling if they hadn’t mentioned it.
LikeLike
tim, Steve: way back when I mentioned my master’s thesis on Huck Finn and one of the two of you, I think tim, asked to see it. But I could not then find it. In my dredging out of stuff in my garage I found an early draft of it. It is very close to the final, only cosmetic changes and fixing mechanical errors. So, whichever of you–are you still interested? It was by the way typed on a memory typewriter, a wonderful thing indeed, the first word processing I knew. To think my wife did not have to type the 60 pages of it again to redo it. But now it exists only on the yellowed paper but I can easily copy it at work, which I will do anyway.
LikeLike
I worked for a dean in the College of Liberal Arts in the days of bitter student protests. My boss, the dean, had a private nightmare that he only mentioned to close associates. We managed course registration in those days with IBM punch cards, the very cards we weren’t supposed to bend, fold, staple or mutilate. My boss said three or four protesters could walk into the (unguarded) Class Registration Office, grab a few boxes of computer cards and throw them into the air. And what would be the consequence of that? “That would shut down the University for several months, perhaps half a year.” It never happened.
LikeLike
great story sherrilee,
i had the opposite famly. my dad would not stop at those jip joints who were only out to get your money and have those poor animals penned up and living awful lives. it took until i was much older to realize that these places served a purpose other than my dads take on them and that they could possibly have some merit. when my kids were little we would go camping in yellowstone and northern minnesota on a regular basis. the nights with angry mother moose outside the tent were un nerving nighs with rivers of water coming through the middle of the tent because i hadn’t surveyed the lay of the land quite right before i put down the tent, the nights when the door got left open on the tent and when you zipped it closed for the sleep session of the evening you were zipping all the mosquitoes in for the night with you. those are my memories of the wild animals and wild places. my kids don’t remember because their mother decided it was too tough to rough it on the sleeping bag route. when we go now it is with hotel reservations and a cooler the size of pawtucket. the ranger badges they give out in the parks after the kids have proven they have learned about the local critters , rock formations and waterways were a great tool for learning. my kids were a little precotious and would be spouting off theor knowledge to the passersby whether the poor strangers wanted to be informed or not. it was a fun time. when i think of things that scared me that turned out to be good learning experiences that kind of sums up my life. you go through the day deal with what comes up learn form it and go to the next day. some is stuff you bask in some is stuff you tolerate some is stuff you would like to run away form and it all comes out in the wash. i think i was awakened to the realities of placement when i discovered myself between a mother bear and her cubs but i didn’t learn much, other than “be ready for anything..”.climbing rock walls that i had no business climbing taught me not to do that without some better preparation, skiing those mountains that some people make look so easy can also be made to look difficult if i do it. getting lost in a country where you don’t have reference points or speak the language leaves you with an interesting set of tools and options. the deer farm you mention reminds me of when they had the goats at the minnesota zoo in the kids section and the gumball machines where you would put the quarter in and get a small handful of goat food to hand out to the waiting livestock. well they were certainly goats about it and they were not real interested in the dynamics and social comfort levels of the 5 and 6 year old with the handfuls of feed. they would head butt these little kids to the ground and nibble on their hands to loose the precious nuggets for consumption. i was pretty obvious that it was a regular routine. the zoo tried putting the goats behind a fence but soon abandoned that part of the interaction and now let you look at the critters without the feeding frenzy being part of the equation
LikeLike
This may be the reason there is a “goat trauma” website…”The Childhood Goat Trauma Foundation was created in 1982 by a small group that originally came together as a an informal support group for problems that were the result of traumatic experiences at petting zoos as children.,,” (http://www.goat-trauma.org/) complete with t-shirts, posters and mugs…
Barb, you should be re-visiting the website for reminders and tips… 🙂
Time for me to confront my own goat traumas as I try to manage my “3 Nanny Goats Gruff ” who are exercising their pecking order rights and banging on the smaller ones down the line.
LikeLike
interesting cynthia, hey nice to see your name in front of us again. i couldn’t imagine what the zoo was thinking, you would think they above all should know.
LikeLike
Thanks, Tim…nice to be here again. Couldn’t resist seeing the goat stories. For some reason this morning I had time to contemplate, must be I’m not adjusted to standard time yet and getting up too early.
LikeLike
Lovely story, Sherrilee. I used to be afraid of yeast and pie dough but the smell of fresh bread and a love of pie proved to be too much and I overcame my fear of failure. There are too many elk Theodore Roosevelt park and because of a ban on moving elk out of the park due to health concerns, park officials had a lottery to allow a select number of hunters into the park to shoot several hundred elk. The meat goes to Indian tribes.
LikeLike
boooooo. they ought to be able to transport them to a different happy home rather than shoot them because of bureaucratic balderdash. i feel like the same thing is appropriate for some of those decision makers. i think the indian tribes would know what to do with that little gift.
LikeLike
I think there is a problem with Chronic Wasting Disease and there is a ban on moving elk from one location to another so that the disease doesn’t spread to more deer, elk, and moose. Right now there are about 1000 elk in the park and they want to reduce the number to between 500-750. There won’t be enough forage for that many elk for much longer, so they have to reduce the number. Personally, I’d like to see them import mountain lions the do the job, but I suppose a tourist or two might get eaten in the process, and then the cattle on the grasslands surrounding the park could get consumed as well, so I gues they have to rely on hunters.
LikeLike
i’d like to see the number of bureaucrats reduced by about half too.
blast away
LikeLike
How did I miss hearing about that?
I would like to see it as well, Clyde.
Am currently listening to a series of lectures on Twain in my effort to avoid Hemingway. Good stuff.
Do you have access to a scanner? If so, you could probably scan the thesis in and email it (probably have to divide it into sections). Just a thought.
LikeLike
Madline–I would have to scan each page separately, so I would rather mail, you know snailmail.
You do know that Hemingway is in large part due to the resurrection of Twain’s careeer in the 30’s because he said he could not have written what he writes without Huck Finn. It’s the deadpan, flat-voiced, understated narration. To read Hemingway you have to “listen for the silences,” what he does not say. Huck about 20 times in the book says “but I’m not going to talk about it.”
LikeLike
Thanks, Clyde. I will keep my ears open for what is not said.
tim or Steve, can I maybe borrow the thesis when you are done with it?
LikeLike
FYI, this will be the avoiding Hemmingway support group section of the blog. I cannot bring myself to read For Whom… My husband did and he is coming to book group.
LikeLike
Jacque… I just started “For Whom” yesterday — have not read it since high school. And I have to say, that a few decades of life experience is really changing how I see the characters… not necessarily for the better. Give it a shot – being in book clubs for 20+ years has made me realize that the conversations are often a lot more lively when some of the readers don’t like the book!
LikeLike
oh bother, wanted the above comment to go up by Clyde’s about Huck Finn.
The comment that goes here is about sorrow for the elk herd that used to be along Highway 52 by Rochester that was destroyed due to Chronic Wasting Disease.
I imagine it is not unlike the problem with transporting firewood that could be carrying nasty beasties in hiding.
LikeLike
Good morning brave people,
Good story, Sherrilee, and very nice pictures to go with the story. I’m sure it did require some courage to get friendly with that young elk. That is a particularly nice picture showing you with the elk and a person who I suspect is your father.
As a boy and young man, I was very fearful regarding dating and very awkard around girls and women. Some how, I did manage to over come my fear and now I have been very happily married for more tha 40 years. I’m still a little awkward around women which may cause some women to think I don’t like them. I am a supporter of fair treatment for women and I am aware that women often are not treated fairly. I have learned a lot about getting along with women from my wife and she has been and continues to be an extremely important part of my life.
LikeLike
Still waters run deep. I still love you shy guys! The super confident party animals done me wrong.
LikeLike
I married a shy guy…who had to be told that yes, I was interested in him…I’m with Jacque, the pushy/outgoing party-types pale in comparison.
LikeLike
Jim, you also have a lot in common with Husband.
LikeLike
Thanks for the replies to my comment. As a shy guy I’m afraid to say any more about this.
LikeLike
Jim, go eat some POowder Milk Biscuits and you will be better.
LikeLike
Biscuits that are “expeditious” do nothing for shyness. I know.
LikeLike
I had a great fear of standing in front of a group and talking. In my senior high school year I took speech class (I don’t know why, for heavens sake). My first speech I was shaking so much it was visible and the teacher commented that she had never seen anyone so scared of giving a speech…but in the spring I was able to give a speech at the senior banquet and who knew I would end up loving acting in community theater. Truly one of the joys of my life though I still don’t enjoy standing as myself in front of a crowd.
LikeLike
So I guess this answers the question of the day: I had the same experience, cynthia, in speech class a the U. Could not even stand erect my legs were so bad. But my teacher got me through it. So I ended up with three careers–teacher, preacher, trainer/consultant.
LikeLike
Did any of you ever stop at the Deer Park on Hwy 61 north of TH, a mile south of the first tunnel at Silver Cliff? My daughter worked there for 6 years; it was close to our house. She has many many stories. The Deer Park closed in 1996 because they could no longer afford the insurance. And their worst problem was the goat who tried to come into the store all of the time.
LikeLike
I have many photos of my older daughter with those animals. I loved that place. Now I think it is empty.
LikeLike
Letterman’s top ten lists the last couple of days have been great, especially for you liberals.
LikeLike
Had a strange moment, regarding animals last night. I am preparing for a tool sale tomorrow, what is left after tim bought some things earlier this week. It is a big transition in my life giving up my tools, but I have been handling it emotionally very well until last night.
Overhead the garage I had a few things stored, could not, of course, remember what. I pulled down two things I had saved from my childhood, wiffletree and a single tree I intended to use in some other way. Wiffeltrees or wippletrees and singletrees or swingletrees are a part of draft horse tack, the things the harness hooks on the back to pull a plow or a log or such. I am famously among my friends not fond of the equine population, not afraid, just not enamored of the big dumb lazy things (sorry horse lovers in the group, but I must confess what working them as a child taught me). But the thought of parting with these has been sort of hard, but go they must. Silly.
LikeLike
One hot summer day in the 1930’s, my father pulled up the horse team he had been slaving with out in the field and swore he was never going to be a farmer and was going to leave home to join the French Foreign Legion. He hated working himself and those poor horses so hard when it was hot.
LikeLike
It’s the oddball stuff like draft horse track that can be the toughest to get rid of, I think because it is something you know you’ll never use, but has some emotional hook or tie to another part of your life. I have one lone metal juice glass (sort of tulip/soda fountain shaped and purple) that has rusted a bit at the bottom, but I can’t get rid of it. I acquired it from my grandmother’s kitchen cupboards when the cousins were packing up her things after she died. There were, I think, three of these left – and we all had memories of sleeping over at Grandma’s and having our morning juice in them. I was given the purple one (the other two went to two of my three cousins). I can’t comfortably use it for its intended purpose with the rust, but since there are so many memories tied to that little piece of purple metal, I can’t possibly get rid of it either.
LikeLike
I have a hamburger press that belonged to my grandmother, Nana. She made hamburgers every Saturday night (the only night my mother would let us eat at Nana & Pappy’s — another long story) and she would let us kids help w/ the pressing. It has a picture of a goose on it for some reason. I’ve been a vegetarian for decades now, but that hamburger press has sat on the windowsill of every kitchen of every house I’ve lived in. I have never once used it…….. Clyde, I think you’re part of a very large club!
LikeLike
purple! i was thinking “oh, i hope it’s the purple one!” i am envious 🙂
LikeLike
I have a less elegant but also of Grandma provenanced burger press that is right handy for making quantities of homemade veggie burgers to stick in the freezer and toss on the mini-George Foreman as needed. Our version of “fast food” :D!
LikeLike
I have an old ox yoke from our family’s pioneer days in Iowa. Put a needlework piece in it. Love the old thing of no use whatsoeverbutsymbolicofheritage…
LikeLike
Hi Clyde,
My Dad too; grew up working with horses and sold them as soon as he could and bought a tractor. I never had a horse growing up because he couldn’t stand them…
LikeLike
A “draught” horse (I am in an English mood) pointed at the barn has to be restrained it is in such a rush. A draught horse pointed away from the barn has to be encouraged to move.
By the way the two trees both still smell vaguely of horse, and smell is supposed to be the strongest trigger of memory of all the senses.
LikeLike
I know how that is, Clyde. For me, I so love the memories these things convey. I used to tell people to take a photo at least, of something that is hard to let go of. Then you can look at that, and it still brings back the memory.
LikeLike
I have my grandmother’s very old wood-handled jar lifter for removing jars from the canning kettle. It still works like a charm
LikeLike
I have visited in the past with some older farmers who farmed with horses when they were younger. One said he really liked farming with horses and another one said he was glad that he would never again have to see the rear end of a horse. An Amish man, who still uses horses, told me that those people who like tractors better than horses should remember that horses can give birth to more horses, and tractors can’t do that.
LikeLike
For Tim and any one else who might like to hear the next Orange Mighty Trio preformance: OMT will be back at the Red Stag Supper Club at 9 PM on Monday with a presentation of the new music they are working on which is called “Nerd Enhanced Sound” and which includes music based on computer game sounds and rock music from the 80s and 90s.
LikeLike
thanks jim
LikeLike
Thanks for a sweet photo-story, Sherrilee. I was afraid ot teaching, and it was good for me at the time. My stomach was in knots the first day I taught Kindergarten, but I got through it and ultimately enjoyed a lot of it. The stomach knots smoothed out some, but I still was a bit anxious every morning for 4 years. Not the only reason I quit, but it was a real relief to be done with that…
I’m sure there’s more, will check back later.
LikeLike
Maybe it’s like acting: if you don’t get anxious every time before you go on, it’s time to quit.
LikeLike
I taught for six years. And I was terrified every day. I kept waiting for one of those tall, loutish guys who sat in the far back row to stand up and say, “Grooms, you don’t have ANY idea of what you’re doing, do you?” I used to think about that all the time. Had it happened, I planned to gather my stuff and walk out of the room, giving them a little wave as I popped out of sight. Actually, I was a pretty good teacher, but with NO confidence.
LikeLike
Driving. I took driver’s ed in high school, and was even a little afraid to drive the simulators in the classroom. When it came to the actual behind the wheel instruction, I got the nightmare instructor – at least for me. Little patience and no empathy for a kid who was a more than a little anxious about actually operating a car. The kicker came when he asked my mother if I had learning disabilities (I was having problems with the clutch – clearly a sign that I might have a diagnosable problem…um, no, said my mother, in fact she’s on the honor roll and does quite well in her classes…). After I finished the required behind-the-wheel instruction, I didn’t drive again for a year plus. Friends were good about being the drivers when we needed to go places, until one day in college when our driver got sideswiped by the new drink of the era – a Long Island Iced tea…so Anna, having consumed nothing stronger than Diet Coke, crawled behind the wheel…another pal, who drove taxis from time to time, and who also was less-than-sober, was good enough to yell out the window to other cars (it was summer) that I was nervous about driving and would people kindly move out of the way…decided that I’d rather get used to driving than live through that embarrassment again.
Now, if I had time and resources, I think it might be fun to get into some of the time-trial course racing you can do – speeds don’t usually exceed 60 mph, it’s all about moving your little car through a course quickly and efficiently.
LikeLike
Morning!
Droopy eyed this morning after a late night out. Drove to Winona to see a former student act in a show down there.
Thanks for the story Sherrilee!
I have always said scaring yourself every now and then is good for you… you learn things about yourself in those situations…
Not much to say today… have a fun weekend everyone!
LikeLike
Ok, have pondered and pondered and am going to go for it.
Motherhood. Something I wanted to do for as long as I could remember and had pretty much given up on ever doing when it was granted to me. Terrified at all the things I would screw up, not be able to do or afford or stay awake for.
Been at it for almost 12 years now-has not at all turned out like I thought it would, but has gone well enough for us. Nice side benefits include home ownership (never thought I would stay in one spot this long or be able to afford it) and many friendships with people I would otherwise not have met. Then there is that vast array of knowledge on the subjects of dinosaurs, construction vehicles soccer I surely would not have acquired on my own.
I don’t imagine I am done with being scared about this little venture, but so far, so good. I just keep reminding myself of some of the stuff we have already been through that looking back on it, was pretty scarey stuff, just didn’t realize it at the time.
LikeLike
Atta Girl.
You’re doing just fine…. keep on keeping on!
LikeLike
Thanks Ben and right back at you!
LikeLike
I was another of those people who was terrified of public speaking. Then I went to St. Kate’s, and my creative writing professor, Jonis Agee, insisted that we go each month to the Victoria Cafe (near Odegard’s Books of blessed memory) for their open mike night. The fact that people listened, laughed (in the right places) and applauded, and that your fellow students were there for moral support, really helped, and I’ve been doing public readings with my poetry group on a regular basis at SF conventions for years now. I remember there was one guy at the Victoria who was writing a memoir under instructions from his psychiatrist (he was schizophrenic), and the product was weirdly entertaining and entertainingly weird. My favorite line of his: “Everyone on the airplane was crying, because they could see I was losing my mind.” We loved him! I seem to remember he was a pretty good reader, too.
LikeLike
When I was in high school — many moons ago, several students and I banded together as the “Poetry Circus”. One of the English teachers took us under his wing and got permission for us to go around to the various elementary schools in town to read poetry. We usually read works of poets that we admired, and occasionally some of our own words. It was a lot of fun and helped get me through my nervousness about speaking in front of folks.
LikeLike
When I get emotionally wound-up, I run off at the mouth, or in this case at the keyboard. I am off to do the sale.
Have a oggod weekend, all. And if Donna shows up, greet her for me and tell her I am thinking of her, as are we all I bet.
LikeLike
Hope your tools find lots of good homes, Clyde, and people who will appreciate them.
LikeLike
Nice job, Sherrilee!
I’m still afraid of singing in front of an audience. I’ve been doing it for almost twenty years now and it still bothers me. I’m pretty calm when I’m singing with others but I’m terrified to sing solo. I’ve tried it and I just shake and sweat and my fingers can’t figure out which strings they’re on. I’ve learned to look pretty confident, I think, but inside I’m shaking like a leaf. I feel like everyone can see right through me and into all of my deepest insecurities…
LikeLike
Make sure you wear either pants or long skirts. When I was in state music contest in Iowa during high school , I was once told the voice was fine and I looked confident, but the hem of my dress was shaking!
LikeLike
Our high school choir director tells the story of one of his students who was very nervous singing her solo at a music contest. It was many years ago when skirt lengths were very short and came down no farther than one’s fingers. The nervous young women kept clutching at the hem of her skirt while she sang until she had it hiked up so high the judge had to stop her from exposing herself any more than she already had.
LikeLike
thank goodness I wasn’t THAT nervous!
LikeLike
Great story, Sherrilee! Did you have those pictures on hand? And color, too! You all have such worthy fears that you have overcome, and all I can think of is a rollercoaster ride. In Seattle there is a lovely public zoo and park area called Woodland Park. Years back, before Starbucks, there was an area of the park that had kiddy rides. Money was scarce, and going to the park should have been treat enough, but we kids always looked with longing at those rides! Once in a while our pestering would wear our folks down,. The a dime would be proferred and permission was given to pick one ride to enjoy.
I don’t remember how it happened. Maybe a tender hearted aunt or uncle sent some money for the specific purpose of going on the rides at the park, or maybe it was “Free Ride Day”- I really can’t tell you – but I know that I had a choice to go on any ride I wanted as amny times as I wanted! I had never been eligible to go on the roller coaster becuase I wan’t tall enough, and I was scared spitless just watching the contraption. It would wobble and clatter almost fail to reach the top of the first small climb, then it would SWOOSH
LikeLike
Yes, I did actually have those pictures on hand. When my father passed away, six years ago, I decided to deal w/ some of my grief and my mother’s grief, by making a scrapbook of his life. To this end, when I was in my hometown, I filled up the trunk of my car with every photo, every slide and every little reel of filmstrip that I could find from my folks’ storage space and then went home and scanned everything that might be useful. When I found the two pictures from Fawn Doe Rosa, I scanned them as well; they didn’t make the scrapbook (although I always thought they seriously illuminated part of my father’s character that he stood there and took the pictures while the elk (fallow) snuck up on me). And for anyone who is interested in “scrapbook therapy”, I heartily recommend it.
LikeLike
I agree, Sherrilee, when you are ready. This was something else I was afraid to do… We have finally gone through 3/4 now of our photos, keeping the cream of the crop and sliding them into new photobooks. I thought it would be terribly sad to see all these pictures of our son Joel, but instead we get to laugh, often, as we remember all these hilarious events from our past, ask questions of each other prompted by the photos… it has been very therapeutic.
LikeLike
Hmm – never had that hapen before! Must have inadvertantly hit ‘post comment’. At any rate, my first ride on the rollercoaster was the absolute epitome of frightening. Didn’t think I would live through it, BUT, I new I could ride it as many times as I wanted. What’s a kid to do? Ride again, of course. I don’t recall how many times I rode the rollercoaster, but each ride became less frightening and more fun. It was great experience! From fear to fun is a wonderful journey.
LikeLike
Greetings! When I was a young girl and young woman, I swore I would never get married and definitely NEVER have kids. After Jim broke down my barriers to love, we were married 7 years before we finally had kids, when I realized I would probably make an OK mom. Once I was pregnant with our first, I read way ahead to the end of “What to Expect When You’re Expecting” (aka worrywart’s guide to pregnancy and birth). I was terrified. I told Jim there’s no way I can have this baby and go through all that yuckiness and pain. But I did. And then you forget, so you have another kid. And another. Then I was nearly 40 and knew that three was enough, and got my tubes tied.
Of course, they’re the joy of my life and have brought me so much. I look forward to seeing all the other guest blogs!
LikeLike
I remember stopping at Fawn Doe Rosa on car trips to Webster when I was about the same age as you were in the photos, Sherrilee. My father didn’t have much patience for it, though. He was pretty goal-oriented, and I think we got hustled back into the car pretty quickly so we could get on the road. I’d like to go back and visit sometime.
I like to go to see the llamas at the State Fair. At first I was a little afraid of them, because every now and then one will suddenly come at your face. One of the handlers explained to me that it’s a friendly gesture when they do that – they just want to rub noses with you – so I got over being afraid of them.
LikeLike