Thursday, January 6, 2011

Othello Make Believe Home

The Farm in Othello, where we lived when I was born, was set up in such a way so as little space as possible was wasted for living or maintenance.  The fields came almost right up to the side of the house.  Only a driveway and a small patch of grass kept the nearest field from converging all the way up to the front door.  It looked ready to take over with the first season of inadequate care, and if a field had life, this field was just waiting its chance to pounce upon the rest of the layout.
Othello home

But it never pounced.  However its being so close to the house, it often called to us who lived there.  The years when corn was planted in the field were very exciting.  When the corn stalks grew tall it was possible to lose yourself with a walk of only a few steps.  Hide-and-seek games were always fun with such a convenient place to hide. 

When alfalfa was planted there, the field was much more than a place to hide.  Then it could become an entire make-believe house.  When the alfalfa was high it took very little effort to push it down here and there, making hallways, living areas and bedrooms.  So doing, an entire house with numerous chambers was ready for play and imagination.  In this way we could all have our own private bedroom.  This was a pleasant escape from our home, where I and my two brothers shared a room.  Often the hallways were very long leading to a bedroom.

Many were the hours we played during the summer in our pretend house, enjoying each other's company and our private bedrooms.  It was in on of these enjoyable moments that I caused my mother more alarm than I cared to.

While in my private room, which was separated from the others by an obscured "hallway," I fell asleep.  It wasn't until some hours later that I realized I had been the cause for any alarm at all.  The rest of my brothers and sisters had gone into the house for lunch.  I had not joined them, being in a state of slumber.  The search was on.  The shed was searched.  The house was searched.  The granary where we would sometimes play was searched.  Even our alfalfa house, fabricated by smashing down the hay to make rooms, was searched.  I was not found.

I was later told people were calling my name and yelling loudly.  However I did not hear a thing.  It was only when my father's loud voice was added to the chorus, when he had come in for a break during the hot afternoon, that I finally stirred.  I woke up slowly, not realizing how long I had been asleep.  When I realized people were looking for me I wandered out of the tall alfalfa into our back yard and was directly discovered by my older brother, and then the rest of the family who had been outside looking for me.

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