This new series, TALES FROM THE BAYOU, will shine the spotlight on some unusual, funny, and sometimes scary moments of my childhood. I hope you find them interesting...
While I never had a pet camel growing up, I certainly know what it's like to live the nomadic life. My family moved into five different houses in the first twelve years of my life. We were considered one of the poorest families in my hometown of Gueydan, Louisiana and with my mother trying to make ends meet on one cook's income and six mouths to feed, it was a challenge just to keep food on the table much less pay the rent. So we moved around. A lot.
The first house I lived in on Second Ave I don't actually remember. I was a baby but I've been told it was in a run down state with walls not quite reaching the ceiling which allowed unwelcome critters to spy on my crib.
Fortunately the next home we moved to, 202 8th Street, had a large back yard where Mother could raise rabbits for extra food. That was where I ran away from home for the first time with candy my sweet reward but that's another story for another time...;~)
Then came 510 Garland where I did everything from collect loose baby teeth for the tooth fairy to accidentally breaking the collar bone of a childhood friend. Yet another story for another time.
The next home, 313 McMurtry, was where I started school, ran away from home for a second time, and collected some of my favorite childhood memories.
The last house I moved to before leaving home for good was 407 McMurtry. The house itself was steeped in local history...as well as spirits. It was where both my parents died, I discovered secret passages and had ghostly encounters...more fodder for more tales later...
I think living the nomadic life helped shape the person I am today. Not only do I appreciate the stability of having my own home now, but moving so many times taught me to think small...to minimize the material things in my life and to reevaluate what truly matters. To make sure wherever I go, I keep what's important to me...like friends and family...close to my heart at all times.
Thanks Mom and Dad for that nomadic life!
Great idea for stories, but (just a suggestion), since you added the addresses, I wanted to know where, it seemed incomplete. If you wanted to keep the places a secret, you could make up the town's name. Hope you don't mind the suggestion.
ReplyDeleteHi Natasha! No, I do not mind the suggestion at all...in fact I should have thought that part through. I have since corrected my post to add my hometown of Gueydan, Louisiana to the story. My stories are true to the best of my ability and memory with no intention of humiliating anyone other than maybe myself in the telling...;~)
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Goodness me! Sounds like an unforgettable childhood to be sure. I look forward to reading more-- thank you for sharing yourself in this way.
ReplyDeleteHi Michelle! I apologize for not replying sooner...I've dealt with two winter storms in the last two weeks and it messed with my internet service. I hope you enjoy my childhood tales...;~)
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I used to catch wild rabbits as a 10/11 year old but when I went to boarding school my father bred domesticated rabbits for food. He kept them in separate hutches and was selective with the breeding. During the holidays when I was about 15 some local kids climbed our back fence and let all the rabbits out.
ReplyDeleteI was the first home and saw 30 rabbits all over the back garden behaving quite shamefully. With the help of a couple of friends we managed to get them back in hutches. Shame we didn't have camera phones back then. It was hilarious and stressful at the same time. Never thought about that when writing the first book, might still have time to squeeze it in the revision although it was really a visual thing.
Awww, JP, believe me with your retelling of that tale I just got a visual and THAT was funny! ;~)
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What a moving. We have lived in 4 different houses from my birth until now and we are staying in this house. :) Great series! :D
ReplyDeleteHi Erik! We moved around a lot because we were too poor to afford the rents. If you keep reading you will learn about life during the 60s & 70s in southern Louisiana...
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Clearly your childhood was fodder for your imagination and your stories, Donna! My husband grew up in Eunice, LA, about 90 miles west of Baton Rouge. He has no family left there now, but we enjoyed a trip back a year ago for his 50th high school reunion. Ate some fabulous boudin and gumbo!
ReplyDeleteHi Elizabeth! I've been to Eunice a few times...small farming community like my own hometown. Yeah, the boudin I miss greatly (although Kroger imports a good version) and the gumbo I make quite often myself with chicken, okra and smoked sausage...;~)
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