Something red...
Told y'all my solid bows would be getting more mileage! Today is American Red Cross Giving Day, as well as Little Red Wagon Day, so I trotted out a small number that I usually reserve for winter.
Truth be told, I'm not a huge fan of the Red Cross. They treated Uncle From St. Louis well while he worked there, and he acted like he loved the gig. He did security, then couriering, then warehouse work before retiring, and he enjoyed the warehouse work because he got to drive a forklift. But his daddy/my grandfather served in Europe during World War II, and he said all the Red Cross did was serve coffee and tell a man when a baby had been born. In the aftermath of the Tri-State Tornado, some victims also reported that there was a lot of politics involved in who the Red Cross helped. One lady who was interviewed reported that her family got ZERO help from the Red Cross, but her neighbors got a whole new house built. The Red Cross isn't ALL bad, of course; indeed, they help out a lot after disasters nowadays. But if given a choice I prefer to donate to the Shriners or to the Salvation Army.
Little red wagons, though...oh, I have many happy memories of my Radio Flyer red wagon. It was the real McCoy, with hard rubber tires and shiny red paint on a metal body. I'd pull my sister sometimes, or Daddy would pull both of us, or Sister and I would load up our stuffed animals and pretend they were on the Oregon Trail. Seriously, we'd pretend sometimes that someone died of cholera along the way, and we'd tuck the decedent into a patch of weeds, pretend to cry, and move on. Daddy played that old Oregon Trail game on those computers at school, so we knew full well about diseases like malaria and cholera and typhoid. Of course because our own game was make-believe our stuffed animals came back to life after the end of the game. Eventually the paint flaked out of the bottom of my wagon and rust stains on our new jeans spelled the demise of the wagon rides. We were getting kinda long-legged for that anyway. But no worries; I planted impatiens in my wagon! I didn't think the wagon bed would be deep enuff for the impatiens to take, but they went off like a rocket.
Mama and I will be moving sometime this year, back to the house where the wagon rides occurred and the impatiens grew, where my sister and I spent our childhoods, where Daddy said he lived his happiest years. Maybe I'll have enuff get-up-and-go to start growing flowers again. I used to really like doing that. Plain ol' geraniums are my favorite.
Love,
RagingMoon1987
Little red wagons, though...oh, I have many happy memories of my Radio Flyer red wagon. It was the real McCoy, with hard rubber tires and shiny red paint on a metal body. I'd pull my sister sometimes, or Daddy would pull both of us, or Sister and I would load up our stuffed animals and pretend they were on the Oregon Trail. Seriously, we'd pretend sometimes that someone died of cholera along the way, and we'd tuck the decedent into a patch of weeds, pretend to cry, and move on. Daddy played that old Oregon Trail game on those computers at school, so we knew full well about diseases like malaria and cholera and typhoid. Of course because our own game was make-believe our stuffed animals came back to life after the end of the game. Eventually the paint flaked out of the bottom of my wagon and rust stains on our new jeans spelled the demise of the wagon rides. We were getting kinda long-legged for that anyway. But no worries; I planted impatiens in my wagon! I didn't think the wagon bed would be deep enuff for the impatiens to take, but they went off like a rocket.
Mama and I will be moving sometime this year, back to the house where the wagon rides occurred and the impatiens grew, where my sister and I spent our childhoods, where Daddy said he lived his happiest years. Maybe I'll have enuff get-up-and-go to start growing flowers again. I used to really like doing that. Plain ol' geraniums are my favorite.
Love,
RagingMoon1987
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