The Reindeer Keeper

When I was growing up there were two high schools in my hometown. One was a public school; the other Catholic. Through my early Junior High school years my uncle taught boys basketball at the Catholic school. This was a perk for me and my cousin. We got to go to the games and strut around, thinking we were something because we had ties to the coach-as if it mattered to anyone else in that gymnasium. We knew the names of all the players. We'd cheer them on as if they knew or cared who we were. Looking back I realize now they never even knew we existed. But when you're that age, younger than any of the players and your uncle is their coach, imagination is a wonderful thing. If anyone of them had even looked our way I know we would have died! Eventually the Catholic high school closed and the students were merged into the public school. High school basketball games were lots of fun-especially when we'd e playing a big rival. Those were the times there'd be lots of eve

To this day I cherish the moments I get to enjoy a piece of toast. It usually happens on the week-ends when I have a bit more time for a second cup of coffee. I dare say we all have our favorite ways of toasting our bread and now with so many types of breads to choose from, the outcomes are much more diverse.It wasn't always like that. White or wheat-that was it-take your pick. Today my choice is wheat. But when growing up it was always white because that's what my parents bought-and it came from the package with the 'red, yellow, and blue balloons printed on the package'-as the jingle used to say. Of course after the bread is toasted-another decision is needed. What do you put on top of your toast? Butter-honey-jam-jelly-and then what kind-what flavor? It used to be a treat when our mother bought honey butter. Sometimes I'd sneak into the refrigerator and take a spoonful of that thick, delicious topping to enjoy all on its own. I think the best toasted bread I&

Just outside the back door of my grandparents' farmhouse sat the pump house. It was painted white-quite small with  two windows and surrounded by flowers. There was a cement floor and the pump. That's all. Its purpose was to shelter the pump that provided a water source for the barn. In the sweltering heat of summer it also provided us the best-the coldest-the most refreshing water I've ever tasted-and it wasn't even packaged in a plastic bottle. All you had to do was grab hold of the handle and start pumping. Within seconds water would flow into whatever was catching it-little hands-buckets-cups-ladles. On some of those summer days we let the water flow all over the cement floor and then we'd splash around in our bare feet. It was our swimming pool even though all we'd do was slam our feet or put our heads under the water spout which took our breath away it was so very cold. It also provided a great place to hide when playing hide 'n seek. No one would ever

Still to this day, the word 'Perm' makes me shudder even though perms have come a long way! Besides modern day perms being less harmful to the hair and more flattering to the person getting one, the biggest improvement to perms is that smell-the gagging, obnoxious smell that filled your senses for days is gone. And the end result is complimentary. When I was growing up my mother never took me to a 'beauty salon' to get my haircut. Rather, she took me to a barber shop in our downtown. I vaguely remember walking up big stone steps and into a large area with three or maybe four barbers dressed in crisp, white shirts-more like uniforms with black pants. They each had their own area in front of a big mirror. They each had a chair that, to a little kid, was huge-complete with a leather strap attached to the side used to sharpen their razor blade before shaving a customer in either hot lather or straight razor style. After my mother got her hair cut, my brother and I took tur