Memory lane

When I was a youngster my daddy would whistle a simple sound and the mockingbirds would answer.

I remember summer nights at the Amarillo Gold Sox games and the gas flame outside the stadium.

I remember a trip to the mountains and ice cold water in the sizzling summer heat.

I remember daddy dug up the whole front yard with a garden fork one summer because bermuda grass made mother miserable.

I remember trying to dig to China with a spoon.

I remember horny toads like miniature dinosaurs sitting in ant beds.

I remember my cat Tippy's mission was to see how many times a day he could go in and out of the house. When he came in, he thought he had to eat. We spoiled Tippy.

I remember lying on my back on a quilt and watching dozens of falling stars and listening to the wind in the phone lines.

I remember my great-grandmother's outhouse. Wasps chose to set up house there.

I remember swimming with my cousins in the pool at Cisco. At the time it was the largest concrete pool in the world. You could see tadpoles swimming about.

I remember attending football games and plays at the local college.

I remember talking to you. Later, Dude.