Years Gone By

Forty-seven years ago I was packed up and moved from Iowa.  After living around the world I have returned.  I did not graduate from small school Iowa.  Instead I graduated from a city school with over 800 in my graduating class.  It goes without saying I have not been back to a reunion.  The 37 people I knew may not show up.  However I have since attended a reunion of small town Iowa.

The town of Irwin was having an all-school reunion.  Translated means anyone who has ever graduated from the town of Irwin can and should attend.  And attend they did.  Four Hundred and three came from near and far.  When a graduating class is comprised of 30-40 people, 403 is a lot of students under one roof.  People from classes of 1942-1990 attended the bash.

They couldn't exactly get them all under one roof.  A large tent was banged into place and the "younger" people banned to outside.  Graduating classes from 1971 through 1990 were considered the younger sect.

One of my sisters, Claudia, and her husband, Jack, came to the reunion.  My arm was twisted into attending.  I don't think she was feeling bad about leaving me home alone.  I think I have lived here long enough I would recognize people she didn't and help break the ice.

I am told the class I would have graduated with was one of the larger classes in Irwin.  A whopping 5 people showed up.  One lives a mile across the field from me.  We have become friends.  I recognized her.  Two of them are faint memories.  Two others have not changed a bit in forty-seven years.  Well, they are taller, but that's it!

I dashed home after the reunion to dig out my old school photos from when I lived here.  Sure enough I had pictures of the frozen in time people.  They could be on a milk carton from years ago and no "looks like now" sketch would be needed.  I don't think it's fair some of us don't age and the others of us have to bath in anti-aging cream.

I discovered there were many reasons people did not attend this all-school fiesta.  "I didn't know."  Come on.  This is a small town.  Everyone knows everything.

"I have a family reunion to attend."  Really.  Family over long lost comrades?  All though to be fair, I drove past that reunion.  They needed an entire field to park all the vehicles.  And it looked like fun.  Yes, we slowed down as we past this all ages party.  Didn't want to dust anyone from the gravel road.

"I'm attending a bachorlette, party."  This excuse is a reason for missing...anything!

Students were not the only ones attending the gathering of classes.  Some former teachers attended.  One such teacher was a woman in her 90's.  I had the most fun watching her.  She fluttered from one former student to another.  A broad grin gracing her face.  I'm guessing she had all well behaved pupils.  Or she has forgotten.

The night was warm outside.  No matter.  I had a blast listening to my former school mates lives.  Claudia also enjoyed finding old friends and catching up.  I was able to help Claudia remember some faces.  She soon took off on her own remembering her days as "the perky cheerleader" and the winner of the "Betty Crocker Homemaker of the Year."  (We have yet to find the teacher who gave her that award!)

We went home (past the reunion still in full swing) feeling nostalgic.  It had been fun to see how people have matured and learn about their different lives.  I thought the nostalgia was finished for the decade.  Claudia had other ideas.

The next morning Claudia awoke wanting the see the sight where she attended kindergarten.  This was in a tiny town called Kirkman, population 64.  The school (where our father and uncles spent their school days) has long since been demolished.  A historical marker is all that remains.

The school might be gone, but some recreation still remains.  An old fashioned merry-go-round!

Claudia and I jumped on.  We spun until our heads nearly came off and our stomachs hurt from laughing.  Jack took pictures.  He wasn't allowed to ride.  The smell of barf in the truck is hard to get rid of.  

We all look toward the future.  Wondering what next adventure is around the corner.  A look back in our personal history is good for the soul.  We must remember where we came from to see where we are going.  I thank my could-have-been class for letting me crash the party.  It was truly an experience to remember!

Monster in the Grove

Spring is wonderful in western Iowa.  The plump robins return gobbling up wiggly worms.  Red winged blackbirds make their appearance to serenade the morning.  Baby bunnies hop out of their nests to munch on troublesome dandelions.  Spring is a peaceful time.  Except for the monster hiding in the grove.

The first sign of spring is the red breasted robin.  (Actually it looks orange to me, but who am I to argue with the experts.)  One day a lone robin is hopping in the yard and the next day his friends have joined him.  They flutter from spot to spot pulling up worms for their feast.  Worms are good for the ground.  I have to open the window to holler at them not to be so greedy.

Baby bunnies seem to appear out of nowhere.  I do not have a yard.  I have a dandelion field.  Those babies get fat dining on all those yellow weeds.  The baby bunnies do not have as much fear as they should have.  My son was able to pick one up, hold it, pet it, try to bring it in the house and name it.  The son had to return back to his home.  Without the bunny.

My son is not the only one who would like a baby bunny has a pet.  So would my cat, Snuggles.  She is a ferocious huntress.  She crouches in the grass stalking the unsuspecting babies.  Like lightening she pounces on the bunny.  Snuggles thinks she has a new toy.  She carries it to the driveway tossing the terrified bunny into the air.  The bunny gets swatted around and carried some more in her mouth.

That's when I show up.  Snuggles knows this routine.  As soon as she spots my big toe Snuggles charges through the grass with baby bunny captive.  I may be technically an antique, but I can run.    My dash across the yard results in the capture of Snuggles.  I nab her by her scruff and shake the baby bunny to freedom.  Snuggles is then hauled into the garage for kitty time out.

Spring in Iowa also brings ear deafening storms.  Lightening slashes across the sky.  Thunder booms, rattling the entire house.  The wind howls its discontent.  Rain pounds relentlessly on the windows.

I am not a fan of these spring hostile occurrences.  But with a good book and four cats snuggled by my side, I can get through anything.

My son called during such a storm.  I peered out the window during our conversation.  "Holy @#%*!  There's a monster in my grove!"

"Mom, what are you talking about?" my worried son inquired.

"There's a monster out there.  It has taken it's sharp claws and attacked the largest tree I have!"

"Mom, have you been drinking?"  I could hear my son rolling his eyes through the receiver.

"No!  There are giant claw marks on my tree.  There's a huge monster out there waiting to get me!"

"Take a picture and send it to me," replied my unruffled son.

Take a picture?  He wanted me to go outside with that monster and take a picture?  I'm smarter than that.  I snapped a picture through the window.

His answer came quickly enough.  "Lightening has hit your tree."

Lightening?  Lightening stripped rows of bark off my tree?  I  suppose he could be right.

My heart rate went back to normal.  My sweet son continued to assure me there was no monster lurking in my grove.

The storm eventually subsided.  All was back to a peaceful spring.

Now when I go outside I carry a bat.  I am not totally convinced there is not a gigantic monster creeping around my grove.  While a bat may not kill the beast.  It will stun him.  And as I mentioned, I can run!