This story goes back about 24 or 25 years. Kyle was about 1 or 2 years old and we had just purchased a travel trailer. We were on our way to Memphis and stopped at a campground in Arkansas. The campground was a pleasant place with a lake (Diana would say pond). The campsites were positioned around the lake. The arrangement was campsite on top, the ground fell off in a nice terrace (about 30 to 35 degree slope) for about 6 to 8 feet, a level area with a picnic table about 5 feet wide and then another slope about 10 feet to the lake. Early in the morning I got up and out of the trailer, set up a Coleman stove on the picnic table and started breakfast. As I was sitting there frying bacon, I saw the trailer door open and out comes Kyle. He approaches the hill and  . . . all of a sudden, all I see is a ball of a toddler rolling down the hill, cross the flat and head toward the lake. He rolled about 1/2 way down and stopped. He was still for about 2 seconds, then got up and walked back to the trailer where he has some toys to play with. In typical Kyle fashion, nothing was said. It was as if nothing ever happened.

The nearest town to my grandparents' farm was WhoopUp (so named because on Saturday night everyone would go there to whoop it up). WhoopUp consisted of a crossroad and a general store on one corner. That was it! There was a porch across the front of the store with chairs and checkerboards - much like today's Cracker Barrel. ( remember we're talking 70+years ago).  Mail for all the surrounding farms was dropped off at the general store. It was always fun for me to go to the store with Grandpa because I could get either a red sody pop or some candy. It cost grandpa about a dime each time we went, but that's what you do - spend a lot of money on your grandkids.  

One day Grandpa and I got on the horse and headed for WhoopUp to pick up the mail at the general store.  When we got within sight of the store, we could see two old guys sitting on the porch playing checkers. One of them waved, then said to his friend in a loud voice, "Well, here comes Gus and Manuel's girl."

Andy, you might have to verify or correct, but here goes:

One summer we (Diana and I) went up north for a visit. A group of guys got together and went out to shoot some shotguns. I believe there was Dave, David, Andy, Tucker, Elmer, Paul and I present. (I apologize if I've missed anyone. If so, please respond with a post.) Not only did we have some fun with a shotgun but Andy brought a little motorcycle that he bought for Tucker (I think). A lot of people took turns and it came around to me. This bike couldn't have been more than 18-20" off the ground and was much shorter when you were on it than it appeared. I managed to get my (less than limber) 6' plus body on it and start moving. Through the brush, over a trail, down a dirt driveway, it was a blast! I figured my turn had come to an end when it hit me: I was so balled up I was unable to get my feet off the pegs. So, I did the next most graceful thing. I rode into some taller grass, hit the brakes, came to a complete stop and just fell over. Shades of Benny Hill! (For you youngers, Google Benny Hill and tricycle.)

When travelling the back roads in Farmington, traffic was so uncommon that people would always wave to each other when they passed. Every once in a while, the Fox would comment on how unfriendly some people were and wouldn't return his wave. After watching him at the next rare car, I think I understood why. I could only imagine that the people that waved knew him by his truck and were friendly. Others, probably didn't even know. As he would drive (with both hands, as I recall) a car would approach and he would raise his pointer finger without removing his hands from the wheel. I would be amazed if any body saw it. Looking back, he must have had a bunch of friends because most people waved like they knew him.

Daddy was building a cabin down near the river. He was mixing concrete or something and needed lots of water, and he had his bucket to get it. It was quite a walk down to the river and back when you're carrying a heavy bucket. He was really getting tired. The next time he went to get the bucket and take it down to the river to refill, it was already full of water. It kept happening. He kept looking around, but there was never anybody in sight. But the bucket was always full when he needed it.

One day when we were about 10 and 6, Tom and I must have had a disagreement about something because he picked up my cute little doll and threw her across the bed at me. She was ok except her eyes crossed.  I still have that cute little doll, but 70ish years later her eyes are still crossed.

When Tom read this a while back, he said ,"You told me to toss her to you."   ???????????chuckle, chuckle. Maybe. Who knows? It was a long time ago.

One day when we were on the highway on our way back  from the Golden Coral in St. Charles we noticed a turn that went to Creve Coeur Park. We had been wanting to go there as they were selling some trees we were interested in.  So this turn into the park was perfect. We got into the park and began to look for a road to the tree sale. We needed to get to the other side of the park. After looking for a while, we turned onto a road that we figured would take us in the right direction. It was a very narrow road but there were no other cars, so we figured we wouldn't have a problem. Suddenly we saw a lot of people coming and some bikers. Oh, no!!! We were on the walking trail. We slowed to a crawl. I kept rolling down my window as we passed people, apologizing and telling them we were lost.  Most were very understanding, but we did get the stink eye from a few.  Finally we spied a parking lot, but to get there we had to cross over the creek on an arched bridge. We were quite concerned because that bridge had been built for walkers. Would it hold a car?  We gritted our teeth and headed for the bridge.  Praise the Lord, we got across, went into the parking lot, found the exit, and went straight home.

I was young. So young I don't remember how young I was. I do remember it was summer and I was running around the Unc's lake house in Farmington goofing off as I did so well. I also remember about 4 or 5 geese taking a sudden interest in me as I was in the back yard. They apparently were not happy with me, started hissing and chasing me. Even at a young age, I knew that it was probably a good time to clear the area, so I headed towards the house. I remember seeing a door open and Nana comes running out with a broom held high and a 'Goose for Supper' look on her face. Apparently, they saw it too. I don't remember her saying anything but was very glad I was NOT a goose, just then. My hero right then was a 5'1" woman, going maybe 100 lbs, wielding a broom more ferociously than any sword. A memory not forgotten.

Years ago, PK (pre-kid) Diana and I would take a mini vacation weekend at a hotel in Earth City. The Doubletree. They had fantastic chocolate chip cookies, a wonderful breakfast, lots of stuff nearby to do and the price was attractive. In the morning, we went down to the breakfast which had a lot. Eggs, bacon, cereal, pancakes all served up almost to order. We were in line and each of us grabbed a coffee cup and filled it up from the large urns that were there. As we were waiting in line for our food to be served Diana took a sip of her coffee and started making the most horrible strangling noises! Once I determined that she was OK I asked what the deal was. She responded that what she put in her cup was NOT coffee but warm syrup. (I guess I can see how that would be a little rough.) She said that she would go get a cup of COFFEE and keep the cup of syrup for us to use as we were getting pancakes. I got the food on our tray, found a table and sat down with Diana. Naturally, she grabs the cup of coffee and pours it all over her pancakes. It was not a very good morning for my lovely bride. She was (and is) a good sport though, and we still laugh about that meal.

I guess everyone loved it in Farmington. Some liked it so much they bought a house to stay there. After the Unc sold his house he bought a mobile home outside of Farmington. The name of the town escapes me bit I do remember it was next to Sam Scism Ford. (Weird, right!) Many a weekend we (mom and I) would head down and stay in the trailer. It got really interesting when the Fox and Nana were there at the same time. Apparently, they loved it there too and bought a house. Nana still had a job in St. Louis and would stay with us through the week and then head down to Farmington for the weekend. The house (mentioned in other stories) was an old two story farm house with an unusual floor plan that needed work. The upstairs had a unique layout. Perhaps a story for another entry (or another person. Unc, mom, any takers?) Anyway, from what I can remember, the farmhouse had a porch that went all the way around, had a stairway in the midddle going to its half story above, was basically square in shape and had a particularly spooky basement (to a 8 to 10 year old). The Fox, working his magic,  probably more than doubled its size, made a whole story above, not half and added significantly more room. Story has it, he went around the top story with a chainsaw to remove it and build it better. That was the Fox. No problem too hard. I will say though, that the basement was still spooky! 
We spent a lot of time there hunting, fishing, learning to drive, gardening and croquet. Even got a dog he named Poop-doopy. (The vet asked the name of his 'visitor' and that's what he came up with.
Again, another story.