Bug Soup

A Broth of Rambling Thoughts ( with some morsels of 'silly' thrown in for flavor)

Saturday, July 01, 2006

Life on the Frog Farm

Who can say they grew up on a Frog Farm?

I guess my siblings can, but their memories aren't as clear.

I've been thinking about writing about my grandparents farm.
About what I learned there, about frogs and life and stuff.
They didn't just raise frogs, they also raised chickens, and crickets and worms to feed the frogs and chickens too.

And they raised me.

Summer was the best time, because we got to go to the Frog Farm for days and days.
One time I spent the whole summer there.
All by myself.
No sibs, no parents, just me and the grandfolks and the frogs, for two whole months!
I was 11, I think, maybe 10.
Between the time when my Dad died and my Stepdad left.
Between childhood and responsibity.


I mention it now because I am there again, in my heart.

After Uncle Stuart died last month my cousin asked me if there was anything of Stuart's that I wanted.
All his things were with her, because he'd moved there to die, and he did , 5 weeks after he got there.

Kelly - Is there anything you want? Anything you need from his things?
Buggy - Oh, there is one thing ... but I am sure that everyone else wants it.
Kelly - What? Tell me, no one else has asked for anything yet.
Buggy- The painting of the Farm? Does he still have that? You know, he and I, we loved that place like nowhere else on earth.
Kelly- It's here! You want it, it's yours!
Buggy- OMG! Really? I alwas loved it!
Kelly - Yes! I'll be in Texas next month, I'll bring it to you.
Buggy- Are you sure?
Kelly - Of course! It's yours.

I have it now , the painting.
There is no artist signature on it, it's just an oil painting of an old farmhouse in the desert with a barn off to the left, and mountains behind. A simple raw wood frame, not a masterpiece to anyone else.
I love it.
I loved that house, I loved that place.
I think my uncle would be happy that I have it, because I love it so. I think he knew that he and I loved that place the most.
The Frog Farm, was my favorite place on earth. Still.

The best days of my childhood were spent there.
It was sold years ago, I hear it's a vineyard now.
I probably wouldn't know it if I saw it. The frogs are gone for sure, and probably the house too.

But now I have it in oil, that moment in time and memory, when it was perfectly the perfect place.
That time and place when my grandparents raised frogs in a desert, when I rode a horse that was really a bike, when I was the only kid , for the best summer of my life.

They are all gone now, everyone who loved the Farm, all gone, except me.

I think maybe I should write about the Farm.
Who else grew up on a Frog Farm?
Only me.

KatieBug is Home!

I know I haven't posted anything for weeks, but I checked my pulse and took my tempature, and I was depressed.

Anything I would have posted would have been a serious downer.
Not that I don't post about my weaker moments, not that I don't talk about my sad stuff, not that I am above a pity party now and again, but it was too much.
I was too sad to write.
My rock, my reason, was away.
She is why I get up everyday.
I can handle sad when Kate is here, without her, the bad stuff seems harder.
But she's back!

Katie did her traditional ( second time) two week visit to California.
The great adventure, the vacation!

There was a bit of conflict this time, she and her Grandmother butted heads a bit. They are both strong willed and uncompromising women. Grandmother didn't get that the reason they clashed was that they both like to be right. What she sees as helpful, Kate sees as critical. Neither one will ever admit they are wrong about anything.
Of course Kate is excused somewhat, since she is a fourteen year old girl and they are suppossed to be kinda bitchy and think they know everything. It't the nature of the beast.

Grandmother, ( this is what the kids call her) bought Katie everything her heart desired, and then some. She came home with tons of clothes, and various other stuff.
Thank goodness I cleared out her dresser and made room in her closet. So grateful for the new clothes, I wouldn't have been able to buy them. ( But did the child need 12 bras, and 20 pairs of socks?)

I did have to listen to a 45 minute phone earfull about all the things that were wrong with my kid, with implications of bad parenting being the cause of her every flaw. But hey, the kid has 2 new pairs of school shoes and 8 pairs of pants. ( I know when I've been bought and paid for, I know who owns me)

Katie's impression of her trip is much better then the version I heard.
I'd rather she didn't try to live up to the image that was expected of her, better she is just who she is. She is home now, and can drive me crazy just the way I like.

Yep, it still sucks here. I still don't have a job, and am still stressed out about paying the bills.
All the same crap, but I sleep better, because my kid is home.

My Katie is home.
My heart is back.