Childhood

My brother on the left, myself in the middle and one of my cousins on the right.

Past the age of five or six, I have never been a "girly" girl. I guess it was because I grew up with only one brother and a ton of cousins - mostly boys. So, I had to learn to play their type of games, such as cowboy with guns and bad guy/good guy chases.

By the time I was nine or ten, I could ride a horse without a saddle and chase the boys, with my cork gun, while holding the reins between my teeth. Oh, I was good! And, if I got "killed" at any of our plays, I had to ride across a saddled horse, like a corpse, all the way back to the farm house. 

The "dead" ones were allowed to hold on to the stirrup on one side, while grabbing with the toes to the one on the other side. And, as you can see from the picture above, grabbing with my toes was no problem.

That was funny and there were many times when the boys had to stop the horse and prop me up because I had started to slide off, while giggling my little butt off.

I had little plastic and metal trucks and cars. I had my own knife, which I wore on my belt whenever I was at my uncle's farm. A girl needs a knife, you know. There were too many oranges, and pineapples and whatever for us to eat while my aunt wasn't looking. Spoiling our appetites for lunch and dinner.

I had a sling shot made out of a forked small and thin branch from the Guava tree - the best! It does not brake, ever! And I can still make one, out of inner tube rubber that one cuts with a pocket knife, a piece of leather, a good strong string and that forked wood. And I was good with it. I could hit a can placed on the top of the fence, as easy as eating a cake!

Oh, but my aunt did not allow us to kill birds or any other living thing! Bless her beautiful heart! As my mom and dad, my aunt and uncle taught us to respect and care for the animals, no matter which ones. We cared for what was alive; for what had feelings and could feel pain like us.

I wore my cousin's (that one up there in the picture) old boots, and clothes. They were passed down to me, because I was the smallest one of the bunch. And I loved it!

Pretty dresses and shinny shoes were a torture to me. Uncomfortable and annoying. One could not do a thing, dressed like that!

All of that made me a sort of a tomboy. A shy one though, mind you. If anyone yelled at me, I'd cry, deeply hurt.

Some things never change:

Being shy, for instance.
Wearing pants all the time.
Loving boots.
Being able to shoot a can with a sling shot, or a gun.
Loving and caring for animals.
Riding a horse.

Although I don't think I could ride it across as a dead body anymore - unless I was really dead.

Love ya!