I keep dreaming of the house I grew up in. Only the surroundings are more interesting and more populated. I found an old picture of my cousin and I about to set off to make a tent out of a favorite blanket and one found 2x4. You can tell in the picture how windy it is and if I'm not mistaken that tent never did make it.
I do think they ended up making a fort out of tumbleweeds. I couldn't have been more than 4 years old, but I remember parts of the visit so vividly. I'm wondering if it is the visit that ended up with our trusted cow dog biting me. I was so small and trying to warn the cousins not to bother him while he ate. I didn't blame our dog at all, he was just being a dog. Somehow I knew this barely out of toddler years.
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