"Mother" written on your arm over the top of a rattle snake and a revolver crossed.

Its my Mom's Birthday. Years back when I was the age of 7, my Dad along with all my Uncle's took a logging job in a place called Trinity Center. The distance was too far to travel from the new work site to home each day. Our families all went to Trinity Center and we camped in trailers out in the woods. Each morning my dad would be woken up by the sound of his windup alarm clock the camp would become alive at 3 and 4 in the morning by the sounds of diesel engines and the men would go off to work. All of us cousin's would play together and attend school together outside our trailers. It was in Trinity Center that I was bite by the Flying Squirrel. But this story is about my Mom. One day while doing school work, My cousin Troy and his friend looked down from the table to see a rattle snake crawling toward their table. They jumped on top of the table and began to yell. My Mom came running with the 22 revolver pistol and shoot the head off the rattle snake. My Mom is the Woman who will shoot the head of the rattle snake for the safety of her kids. Happy Birthday Mom, I love you. 

 My family has a Reunion and I go every year. For three days we sit out in the sun, drink black coffee and eat a lot of food. At night we all sit around the campfire and talk. We talk every night, and I would be willing say that that all of us relatives have a particular way in which we talk when around the campfire. We bring outsiders in every year, family friends, fiances, boy friends and girlfriends, but it takes years for a outsider to learn how to talk out at the campfire. Maybe its a lack of courage, but mostly I think that they are unclear of how to share in the common exchange of conversation at the campfire. Also we are always sharing personal stories of one another and retelling old stories in bigger and better fashion. If anything the new comer is placed on center stage as we all take turns telling them about years prior and relatives to watch out for. The young kids in our family crave the title of being a “ Big Kids” . Parents use the expression, “ The Big Kids can only stay out here this late around the fire.” The kids are wishful each Reunion that this year they will be a Big Kid and get to sit around the campfire and talk till the morning hours. Its hard to image going without those three days of campfires this year.

Is it too much to assume that Nature's course and pattern also has a direct affect upon you? The little male bird is making big his chest and pushing his bright colors forward, for hopes of his mate. “ Winter is cold for those who have no warm memories.” Thus enters the Stage the Character of Spring.