By jodi@oonian.com , 3 November, 2012
My brother and I had many cats during our youth, and it all began with a charming couple named Muffin and Blackie. Muffin was grey, and Blackie was, well...black. They were given to us by a friend of Tim's, who also happened to fill his pockets with Tim's nifty kid-type stuff every time he was at our house. His mom would make him bring them back, and he'd always be quite puzzled as to how several swell rocks, plastic dinosaurs, army men, and electric scissors found their way into his backpack.
By jodi@oonian.com , 22 October, 2012
One summer day, Dad stuck an old wooden door up in a cedar tree and made us an instant tree house. It was complete with a comfortable seating arrangement of branches, a front door ladder, and a quick escape back door down a slanted branch.
By jodi@oonian.com , 2 October, 2012
My brother and I were really a "couple of wild indians," as my grandma used to say, with tough-as-leather feet from running barefoot on gravel roads and a constant ring of dirt around our necks that Mom always insisted on scrubbing 'til raw and bloody before going to town.
He and I spent long hours playing cave men--the essential equipment being cow bones and bits of dog hair--chasing "dinosaurs" through head-high weeds, barefoot of course since Nikes weren't a part of prehistoric man's wardrobe.Thinking back on our ch
By jodi@oonian.com , 29 September, 2012
As I was saying, there were times when my brother and I appeared to be in the same very painful dimension. I clearly remember swinging from a tree with a rope around my waist.
By jodi@oonian.com , 19 September, 2012
I was one of two kids, my brother being a year and a half older than me. We lived on a farm, but as it turns out, we actually lived in alternate dimensions of the same farm. I've only recently begun to put together this theory, but the clues I've been gathering seem to point in that direction. They are as follows:
1. In college, whenever, anyone would ask where we were from, I would say Alma, and Tim would say Republican City.
By jodi@oonian.com , 17 September, 2012
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I'm not sure how to begin this narrative or where it will lead. I only know I feel driven to it. I'm watching my life whizz by--so many eras gone--high school gone, college gone, life with kids at home, gone.