Adventures of Shoe and Bean: The Hole

It is so interesting what we remember about our childhood. There are incredibly vivid and distinct moments that linger with us, for whatever reason. And when we close our eyes it's as if we are ten, six or even four years old again, in that moment in the present and if we did it all differently we could actually change history.

My sister and I are only 15 months apart. She is taller than me and often times more mature. I am older but it takes some convincing for a few people! When we were very young it seemed like the best, most inexpensive and efficient method of childrearing was to raise us like twins. I remember one day showing up at the pastor's house for a summer gathering in matching handmade jumpers. Same pattern, same material, same size. And neither of us really minded. I also remember unwrapping Christmas presents simutaneously because we often received the same thing only in different colors.

 

We were given nicknames many, many years ago and have kept them all this time. Jenna Lou JellyShoe and Kristin Jean Jellybean. Thus, the adventures of "Shoe" and "Bean".

My parents made huge sacrifices during our childhood. They worked opposite shifts for many years. As a result, we only spent a few short weeks or months in a daycare. All other times we were together at our home. Because of this we have MANY amazing memories that we share together. It only takes a quick look or a code word to set us off into fits of belly-aching laughter. Then we're done for. I'll start to settle down, then she laughs harder, I laugh harder as she settles down...a long, fantastic cycle of giggling.

This time of year is a well-spring of memories for me. Growing up in northern Minnesota definitely has it's benefits. Fresh air, room to run, quiet streets, and lots of snow. (And, of course,  the lumberjacks but that's another story...) Each story is special, hilarious, and a treasure so periodically I might share a new one here and there as they come to me.

Today I bring you the infamous legend of...

The Hole

My dad used to work at Kmart. You know what, it didn't matter where he worked because wherever he worked he would come home with amazing, crazy treasures! A blimp from a gas station, massive record books from the courthouse, one of those kids' jeeps that you can cruise around in...Anyway, somehow or another my dad got his hands on a basketball hoop. I really really nice one! We had a gravel sloped driveway so basketball in front of the garage was out of the question.

My dad had BIG plans for a section of the back yard. It was dirt but really hard dirt, possible to dribble a ball on! So he commenced with the digging. He dug and dug a hole big enough to drop the pole for the hoop in and secure it. Fill it in with dirt, with cement? I don't know. But for a while we had a big hole developing...probably about 2 feet in diameter and at most 4 feet deep!! I remember checking up on it every day.

It was AWESOME!!

...and then he hit a gas line...

The digging stopped and the hole remained empty.

            for the rest of the summer...

                       and into the fall...

                                    and it snowed...

The hole became part of our yard. It became part of our every day conversation:

 "where did you put that toy?" "Oh, by the hole"

"So, I was playing by the hole..."

"Let's play tag. Safe is at the hole!"

Sometimes we would even hide in the hole!!

To this day, if we say "The Hole" everyone in the family knows exactly what we are talking about, even Jason I'm sure.

Now the hole was in a very strategic location: right at the edge of flat ground and beyond the hole was a short but relatively steep (for a child) hill into the back of the yard, ending at the fence. This was our little sledding hill, when we didn't use the picnic table (LOL).

One beautiful, perfect outdoor day Kristin and I bundled up and headed out to play. We'd dig tunnels in the snow banks and roll around on the ground. This particular day we went sledding. I can't remember who exactly did the pushing -- our cousin Brian, my dad, my mom, Kristin?? But someone did the pushing.

There I was, bundled up in my purple coat and, most likely, my bomber hat sitting on the orange "Paris" sled raring to go! Someone pushed me through the snow on the flat section toward to nice slope in the backyard..."Woo hoo!!" and...

"The hole. The hole! THE HOLE!!"

*shwoomp* I was swallowed up by the hole!

The hole was nicely covered and camouflaged by the fresh, powdery white snow!! Someone didn't see it and pushed me directly into it!

Of course, this gave us great ideas for tricks and pranks on our friends and family.

"race me to the fence!" and we'd make sure they ran right into the hole!! Ahahaha!  

The hole has since been filled in but remains a cherished memory, a LEGEND in our family circle.

Of all the strange things to have in your backyard...