Anita and I were best friends from birth.
One of our favorite weekend activities involved connecting the massive spread of mud puddles between her house and her Daddy’s shop. (She’s a farmer’s daughter too…) With sticks, we dug trenches between water holes, so a leaf would freely float from one end of her property to the other. This took careful planning and hours of dedication.
When we weren’t redirecting the water on her Daddy’s home place, we sat on the rickety bridge just down the gravel road leading to her house. With our legs dangling over muddy water, we planned Anita’s escape. We were certain she was secretly adopted, and if this was the case, running away seemed logical. The signs were obvious, and the basis for our theory was solid—compared to her older sister Sharon, there were fewer baby pictures of Anita…
We reviewed our carefully crafted plans over and over. She would sneak out during veil of darkness. But…should she wait until after Halloween? All that candy would come in handy. Maybe she should wait til next Summer?
The details were simple and fail proof. She would hide out and live on the banks of the river, avoiding the area with the scary quicksand. I would somehow sneak food to her. Until the time was right, we returned to our mud puddles.
Happy birthday Anita!
Grace Grits and Gardening
Farm. Food. Garden. Life
The Beatles Birthday Song