Shitty Bees

I come from a large family.
       We were 3 older and 3 younger brothers and an assortment of sisters.
       The older brothers mostly beat on me and told me their fantasies of being manly.
I spent the majority of my childhood, years 1-40 trying be as daring as my older brothers lies. Once I’d done all they claimed, I discovered they couldn’t have done those things.
       That being said, I guess the only place of my childhood I’d return to is the farm. A subsistence farm of 12 flat acres on the Spokane river 7 miles from the Idaho border.
       The first couple of years we had no tractor so we tilled with a middle aged Morgan, single bottom plow, small disc harrow, spike harrow, and spring tooth harrow. Once I learned how to sling on the collar and traces and hitch up, following that nag up and down rows was a good place to think. Whatever an 8 year old thinks.
Across the road from the house was the river {swimming and fishing}. There as a lake {liberty Lake} 8 miles away we could walk to. Fishing {trout, and an assortment of sun fish}and an amusement pier,{penny gaming machines}
       We sold the farm when I was 12 and moved to the city. That brought disillusionment, trouble, crime, police, football, girls…
The end of a way of life…