Eight Little Indians

Three Years As A Cub Scout Den Mother

There were three years in a row during which I did not leave the house at 3:00PM on Wed-

nesdays without a gallon thermos of Koolaid and 2 dozen cookies. The cookies were as varied

as the ''little Indians" they ranged in age from 8 to 10.

They were proud members of the oldest Cub Scout pack in Ohio. We played games,read

stories, Made the usual tacky crafts...uh...handmade gifts for parents each holiday. We had fun.

The only time I got into trouble was because of a trip to the Air Force Museum 100 or so

miles away. I arranged for the use of a Custom Coach (big luxury RV thingie) owned by a local

auto dealer. The day prior it had been used for football tailgaiting.

Seems cold beer was left on board... I got a call a few days later from HEADQUARTERS which leftt me in fear that Lord Baden Powell himself was coming to rip off my epaulets,

as several of the men on this Father-Son outing had imbibed.

Two of the boys used to follow me home. Now 38 some years later I sadly report what

became of my eight little Indians. One was a suicide at age 30...another shot in a drug deal at

age 19...one took a curve too fast at 16 within days of getting his license. Four of them I lost

track of.

As for the two who followed me home,one was my son...an industrial designer with his own

business ...the other a partner in a law firm is now my stepson. Yes I married his dad a few

years later.

We have been married for 30 years in February. He still has not told me if he had a cold

beer on that long ago Father-Son trip.

Well my first post showed up where it should. I am amazed and encouraged.

I can now indent paragraphs. I shall persist,but afore posted entry which

refers to trip...I will be in a location which may not have internet access.

To all the bad guys,we have an alarm system...Son and BIG dog will be in charge.

I cannot think of one thing we own that is worth a dog mauling.

To all of the good guys,I will let you know when I can how it goes ....8 hours

in the car. Me country music, him classical. After 30 years we are still working on

this. In addition, one of us has TB...Tiny Bladder. Wish us luck . I'll return"with my

shield or on it" Old roman saying for carry my wounded self back on a stretcher.

I bid you farewell for now. Quack

packing for a trip

Getting ready to pack for a 4..5...6 day trip. Hubby can not make up his mind.The leaves should be at optimum "beautifullness". What to pack? Long sleeves? short sleeves? Usually I simplify by taking everything I own that is not in the laundry. Digging through a suitcase whilst standing on my head induces vertigo, so I simply pitch it all into an oversized laundry basket. Complications arise only when husband and I share some items...shampoo...toothbrush charger...etc. Hurricane in a basket. Well as they say it is the journey which counts not the destination. I am off now to throw "stuff" in Hillbilly luggage. This is my very first blog post. I type about 5 words per minute and have not the vaguest idea how to set up paragraphs. Anyone who reads this, please be kind! Any and all help graciously accepted.