There were several childhood family vacations that will go down in history thanks to things that happened with either my brother, my sister or myself. We always had some sort of disaster to contend with but I would like to think that this is fairly normal… maybe I’m just kidding myself.
One trip that stands out to all of us was a trip to Grandma Bud’s cabin at Lake Diefenbaker (?) in Saskatchewan. The majority of the trip is fuzzy to me because I was perhaps 3 or 4 years old at the time but there are certain aspects that are crystal clear.
Grandma Bud was the grandmother of our family friends and she lived just down the street from us, whereas our grandmothers both lived in Manitoba. She often babysat us or we would go play with her grandkids when they were staying with her. I don’t remember her well, as I was very young, but I do remember the layout of her house and going to visit her when no one else was there just because I liked her so much.
Anyway, this specific trip was on the disastrous side thanks to yours truly. I was the youngest of the group of us (by several years) and although I was often a pain to be around, the other kids frequently got stuck with me so our parents could all have some kid-free time. So without a parent in sight, we were out playing, wandering around and just being kids. It was great… until I accidentally stepped on a cactus.
This would have been relatively minor in and of itself but not only was I wearing flip flops, I apparently hadn’t mastered the theory of cause and effect.
Rather than stepping away from the cactus patch and going back to nurse my wounds – I freaked… and started jumping up and down, screaming. Even the jumping by itself would have hurt because I had cactus needles in my feet but I continued to jump ON the cacti, collecting more and more needles with each bounce, the pain of each landing sending me into further frenzies of jumping.
Smart kid, I know.
At some point either one of the kids went back to get our parents or the adults heard the commotion and came running. Of which, I can’t be sure but regardless, one of the adults came and hoisted me out of the cactus patch, carried me back to the cabin and set me down so I could spend the remainder of the day having cactus needles pulled from my little feet.
My poor parents. That must have been awful.
The good news is that to this day, I still have friends and family who stand by me and watch helplessly as I make mistakes and get hurt. They try to provide direction but I’m stubborn and will often jump repeatedly, hoping for different results, despite their warnings. At the end of whatever cactus patch I’ve gotten myself into, they continue to carry me to a safe place where I can remove those needles and heal with time. After all is said and done, they also poke fun at me for my stupidity… I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I guess some things never change and for that I’m grateful.
So there’s your schmoopy post for this Thanksgiving weekend. Yes, I promised to stray away from them but I figured it was fitting with the holiday.
Lots of love to all. Thanks for being a part of my life. xo

