Cow Patty Days

Growing up in a small southern town…

in the middle of nowhere,

about an hour away

from all urban arenas…

It was a place

far from distractions …

allowing

all the little growing minds

to intensely explore

their childhood wonders.

We,

as kids,

had the unrealized

and fine opportunity

to use our imaginations

on a regular basis

and to discover

the goodness in a day!

I think about the handful

of treasured friends

in search of makeshift fun

in this tiny speck of a town

we had the privilege

to grow up in…

Sometimes…

we’d dress up

in the craziest of outfits

and pretend to be manikins

in an abandoned storefront

on Main Street…

(Pre-Project Runway)

Sometimes…

we’d pretend to be gourmet chefs

and pull together a 5 course meal for the parents

with whatever was in the pantry…

leaving behind an explosion of a mess

in the appointed kitchen .

(Prelude to Robert Irvine’s Dinner Impossible)

and sometimes…

we’d find ourselves in the cow pastures…

traversing a mine-field

of buttercups and cow poop…

with a handful of firecrackers,

and a box of Fire chief matches…

 We’d all gather around…

honing in on the chosen patty…

and placing a tiny red fire rocket

right square in the middle

of its flattened muck.