I am not sure just what went wrong in my life journey. I do know I was not born with a silver spoon. I probably should not say what I am thinking. At times, I think my family just found me wandering the woods and took me in. They already had had seven kids, what difference would one more make? Sort of like stray cats.  But I proved to be quite different. I was indeed a non-conformist person. One of the biggest problems I had being a member of this family was learning what they meant by what they said. Now you take the simple little phrase of “taking care of something”.   Dad “taking care of the pig” was most different than Mother “taking care of Gram”.  Even though she did bring home packages of meat when she came back home. I got in trouble on that one. But getting in trouble by saying what I am thinking is most definitely a fault of mine. There seems to be a big hole in my mind to mouth filter. Even saying “Oops, I shouldn’t have said that”, did not smooth the waters at all. But, I did travel a very rough road. That is just what country living is all about. Summertime is just preparing for those snow months. We do get up to seven months of snowstorms.

But there was one year I did manage a vacation. That was back in ’55 when we lived on the farm in Livermore Falls.  That was the year one of my many teachers actually understood me. She was forever giving me small tasks to do just to keep me busy. She was also the one who gave me the chance for a vacation.

It all started one spring day in April. One of my friends and I was sent to the principal’s office. I knew that route almost by heart. But this was different. The High School band was looking for a couple of youngsters to start learning to play an instrument. The teacher thought I needed more stuff to do. They offered to teach me to play the French Horn and I accepted. Being a young and curious fella, this was right up my alley. I was loaned a French Horn and a few books to take home and learn to play music. This was when a small problem began.

It seemed as though the others in the house did not like my poomp, poomp, poomp poomp poomp very well. To aggravate it even more, I decided to play even louder and more often. I was after all practicing for the band.  It was mentioned more than once, there were 120 plus acres out there to play my horn. There was also the woodshed, the goat’s barn, or the run down broken big barn. There was even that little outhouse way out back.

Well, I finally learned well enough.  I was invited to play in the band and learn the marches for football games. The one problem I had; practice was after school classes were over. This just meant I was to walk home after practice. Now you see, this is how my vacation started. I was nine years old and the three-mile hike back home carrying the horn was not that bad. Even though it was up that big cemetery hill just beyond the pallet making mill.

This is where my devious mind began to kick in. The longer it took me to get home, the less time I had to do my daily chores.  Someone else had to do them.  Unfortunately for the billy goat mother did not like him.  He in turn did not like mother. Animals sense stuff like that. Well old Billy lost that battle but did taste good for supper.

Well, school ended for the season, and this is when my vacation started. The band had a few marches they were invited to play and march during the summer. This meant I was to walk to practices and back home again. Walking to practice was an easy walk, it was mostly downhill. But that three-mile hike back up that hill took a very long time some days. And once in a while practice lasted longer than usual. I enjoyed my walks so much I never even wondered who was doing my chores. I had also been instructed to never, never get my white marching pants dirty. Mother was not going to have her kid marching with dirty pants. So, I really had to be careful walking home.

Now folks, that is the type of vacation some of us locals get. Snow will indeed come. It may be September or November, but it will arrive. Right along with the snow comes the cold. It may even get to 50 below zero at times.  Or, a week-long of 40 below zero. The stove will need at least three cords of wood. And one thing for sure, the pants will get dirty.

So, I hope you folks enjoy your vacation. My day starts at sunrise and ends when the body gets tired. I had my vacation almost 70 years ago. Now, I have to learn how to do this retirement thing folks talk about.  Ken White mountainman   COB