What thoughts does the words "barbed wire" stir in your mind? For the longest time I thought people were calling it "bobbed" wire...those southern accents will get ya confused sometimes. :-D When I found out what it was really called, it all made sense, but I still hear "bobbed" wire whenever anyone says "barbed" wire, regardless of how they say it. Let's see if I can find my point...oh yeah, what thoughts does it stir up in your mind. For me, as a child, barbed wire fences represented safety, boundaries and even danger. Safety because the bull in the pasture couldn't charge me if I made him mad. Boundaries because my Grandma could tell me not to go past a certain fence or I would be in BIG trouble. And danger because on more than one occasion, my back got caught on one of those barbs that ripped through my shirt as I scurried between. Methiolate burned like crazy when put on an open wound, but it saved me from many a tetanus shot and infection, so as much as I hated that pink stuff, it was my friend.
As an adult, when I see a barbed wire fence, it still represents, safety and boundaries. It doesn't represent danger since I'm not likely to be scurrying between the wires anymore...I'll find myself a gate to go through these days. It reminds me of childhood, of a simpler time in my life. Of lazy days of summer when my brother and cousin and I would run all over the hill that my grandparents home sat upon. Of hauling 5-gallon jugs down to my great-grandparents home to fill with the sweetest well water I've ever tasted. Of going down to the river bottoms and picking blackberries and eating almost as many as we picked and getting in trouble for eating the ones that still were a little green, more red and not even turning black yet. Of sitting on the bridge over the little creek at the bottom of Tohona hill, throwing pebbles at the little black bugs that skimmed over the surface of the water, calling them "PT Boats" and living in an imaginary world that can only live for a very short time in our lives. Digging my feet in the softest dirt to cool them off in the July/August heat of an Oklahoma summer...such wonderful memories are stirred just by seeing a barbed wire fence.
What is it in your life that stirs up wonderful childhood memories, a scent, a taste, a smell, a song, or maybe a photo? Please share in the comment section. Blogs are always more fun when those who read them interact. I think I have all the kinks worked out in the comments now. Till next time...
No comments:
Post a Comment