TBD on Ning
The way I remember it...this one's for you, guys.
I am a story teller. It's what I do, it's in my genes. At the request of several friends, I am going to start telling my stories. I am not a writer, I am a story teller, so forgive me, Mrs. Eilerts, on the many grammatical, contextural mistakes that are sure to follow. And as all my fellow TBDers will attest, I am notoriously long winded despite constant reproaches from "moderators" to keep it short. I am a lover of the written word, can't convey deep, personal feelings in one sentence, I don't do txt spk and being a child of the sixties, I "don't need no stinkin' moderators" telling me what to write. LOL It is difficult to convey intentions on a computer, hence all the many misunderstandings and hurt feelings that were constantly swirling about. If it's too long for the rigidly compliant and those that can get a point across in two or three words, please feel free to move on as the rambling will only get longer from here on out.You have been warned! };->(Also, at times, some language will be a bit colored.)
When I was younger I would spend every free moment in the mountains, desert or beach on the west coast. Mostly in the mountains and almost always with my brother - my best friend. My brother named our merry band of wanderers the "Fuckarewe" tribe, as he was forever leading us into the middle of nowhere and someone would invariably ask, "Where the fuck are we?!"
On one occasion my brother, Steve, his long-time girlfriend, Leslie, my boyfriend, Chris and I all hiked deep into the very mountains that are burning and breaking my heart as I am writing this. After a few hours of following a winding stream we came to one of our favorite camping spots. It was a beautiful location and on one side of the stream was a large, mostly flat rock that we set up camp on. Of course it slanted ever so slightly to the creek and every morning we would usually wake up with the bottom of our sleeping bags in the water. No big deal, it was gloriously hot and sunny during the day, so we'd lay the bags open to dry by the time night fell. The mountainside rose up rather sharply behind us; the other side of the stream was wonderfully forested and ideal for exploring.
One morning the guys decided to hike into the forest while we girls sunbathed and played in the stream. I was sitting in the water atop a small water fall - just a few feet drop - gleefully indulging in my water nymph fantasy when I noticed things "moving" on my skin! In a typically girlie fashion - which I was any thing but - I screamed like a girl and jumped up slapping myself every where. My lower nether regions were crawling with tiny water nymphs (worms) that live in the moss of streams, creeks and apparently small water falls. It took a while to recover from the ordeal after forcing poor Leslie to check me several times over for missed nymphs. She really loved me to look and clean the areas that I needed looked at and cleaned. Thank you, Leslie.
My water nymph fantasy being completely destroyed and done with, we decided to sun bathe in our birthday suits on the large rock. Partly to tan, but mostly to make sure any hidden lingerers fried in the sun! We were relaxing and enjoying being one with nature when, from across the stream, we see Steve and Chris running towards us at full speed and looking a little pale and frightened. We were asking, "What's wrong, what's wrong!" They did not reply, but rather flew past us and as they were climbing the steep cliffs behind us, they finally took a moment to look back at us, point to the forest and scream, "BEAR!" Men! The great hunters/protectors...NOT! Needless to say, we had no time to dress as by that time we heard a loud rustling, thundering noise coming from the direction of the bear. We scrambled, naked, up the cliff to a small ridge and waited. Thankfully the bear, for whatever reason, never appeared out of the forest.
Once we climbed back down, dressed and composed ourselves, we decided it was best to move on as bears roam a large area, are territorial and if there are cubs involved they are extremely deadly in their attacks. We were very nervous as we hiked out, but not losing our sense of humor, Leslie and I were praising (ribbing) our "manly men" and their Herculean effort to protect us!
While this story is humorous and brings a smile to my face every time I think of it, it is also bittersweet. One year later, my boyfriend and friend, Chris, took his own life. He was an only child, his father was a magician, "The Great Kirk Kirkham" and it left both he and his wife devastated. I don't think he ever performed again.
In 1999, my beloved brother and best friend, Steve, died after a life long battle with alcohol. This one is for you, guys...hope it makes you chuckle.
When I was younger I would spend every free moment in the mountains, desert or beach on the west coast. Mostly in the mountains and almost always with my brother - my best friend. My brother named our merry band of wanderers the "Fuckarewe" tribe, as he was forever leading us into the middle of nowhere and someone would invariably ask, "Where the fuck are we?!"
On one occasion my brother, Steve, his long-time girlfriend, Leslie, my boyfriend, Chris and I all hiked deep into the very mountains that are burning and breaking my heart as I am writing this. After a few hours of following a winding stream we came to one of our favorite camping spots. It was a beautiful location and on one side of the stream was a large, mostly flat rock that we set up camp on. Of course it slanted ever so slightly to the creek and every morning we would usually wake up with the bottom of our sleeping bags in the water. No big deal, it was gloriously hot and sunny during the day, so we'd lay the bags open to dry by the time night fell. The mountainside rose up rather sharply behind us; the other side of the stream was wonderfully forested and ideal for exploring.
One morning the guys decided to hike into the forest while we girls sunbathed and played in the stream. I was sitting in the water atop a small water fall - just a few feet drop - gleefully indulging in my water nymph fantasy when I noticed things "moving" on my skin! In a typically girlie fashion - which I was any thing but - I screamed like a girl and jumped up slapping myself every where. My lower nether regions were crawling with tiny water nymphs (worms) that live in the moss of streams, creeks and apparently small water falls. It took a while to recover from the ordeal after forcing poor Leslie to check me several times over for missed nymphs. She really loved me to look and clean the areas that I needed looked at and cleaned. Thank you, Leslie.
My water nymph fantasy being completely destroyed and done with, we decided to sun bathe in our birthday suits on the large rock. Partly to tan, but mostly to make sure any hidden lingerers fried in the sun! We were relaxing and enjoying being one with nature when, from across the stream, we see Steve and Chris running towards us at full speed and looking a little pale and frightened. We were asking, "What's wrong, what's wrong!" They did not reply, but rather flew past us and as they were climbing the steep cliffs behind us, they finally took a moment to look back at us, point to the forest and scream, "BEAR!" Men! The great hunters/protectors...NOT! Needless to say, we had no time to dress as by that time we heard a loud rustling, thundering noise coming from the direction of the bear. We scrambled, naked, up the cliff to a small ridge and waited. Thankfully the bear, for whatever reason, never appeared out of the forest.
Once we climbed back down, dressed and composed ourselves, we decided it was best to move on as bears roam a large area, are territorial and if there are cubs involved they are extremely deadly in their attacks. We were very nervous as we hiked out, but not losing our sense of humor, Leslie and I were praising (ribbing) our "manly men" and their Herculean effort to protect us!
While this story is humorous and brings a smile to my face every time I think of it, it is also bittersweet. One year later, my boyfriend and friend, Chris, took his own life. He was an only child, his father was a magician, "The Great Kirk Kirkham" and it left both he and his wife devastated. I don't think he ever performed again.
In 1999, my beloved brother and best friend, Steve, died after a life long battle with alcohol. This one is for you, guys...hope it makes you chuckle.
Comment
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Comment by Jo Lewis on September 5, 2009 at 9:53am
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In my zeal to write this, I mis-spelled the tribe name. It is the "Fuhcarwee" tribe. Sorry, Steve.
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Thanks, blondie. Love the picture! But my goodness, watch out for those nymphs!!!
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Comment by blondie 11 on September 3, 2009 at 3:57pm
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thanks for sharing!!!
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Your welcome, Pru and thanks. Will try to add more soon.
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