The House That Built Me
Wind whipped our hair and froze our noses as we scraped our way through the fallen snow as we skated on the pond. Mucking through the soft, marshy edges to get to the hard ice in the middle, the ice so rough it chattered your teeth with each stroke. Long tendrils of branches camouflaged the nook in the willow tree where I went to read, dream or write. My imagination carrying me away, the gentle swish of the leaves a back drop to day dreams. The back bedroom was mine for a spell. I loved falling asleep with the windows open. Hearing the crickets and bullfrogs serenading me to sleep from the pond, hidden in the darkness. I was safe, nestled in, cradled by my blankets and the warmth of my bed. We built Homecoming floats in my barn. I never felt included in the activities, I skirted around the edges. Hovering around the edge of the crowd for small jaunts of time before heading back inside, happy to have my class mates there, unsure of how to join them. An ice luge was construc