Every man's memory is his private literature. ~Aldous Huxley

You get a line and I'll get a pole, Honey,

You get a line and I'll get a pole, Babe,

You get a line and I'll get a pole,

We'll go fishing by the crawdad hole,

Honey, Baby, Mine....

Years ago when we were looking for our future home, we determined that we wanted to have a creek in the back yard. I grew up out in the country. I was a tom-boy if ever there was one. We had every critter known to man, cats, dogs, parakeets, turtles, ducks, horses, rabbits...

I loved climbing trees, playing in the creek, and roaming in the woods for hours. What an adventure. There were crawdads, salamanders, minnows and snakes. There were huge muscadine vines that hung from the trees and we used to swing over the creek on them. There were hours of "childish boredom" which have since become cherished memories.

I was a very lucky girl. Yet, I did not realize it. I don't think most children do. So today when Baby Girl came running in with a crawdad from the creek, I was so happy. I am so glad she and all the kids have gotten to enjoy their own wild kingdom.

When I hear I'm bored, I secretly smile. It is in these moments of languishing by the creek, daydreaming from the branches of a tree, or lazily contemplating what to do next, that our future sweet memories of childhood are born...