We use to go on trantula hunts. when it was due to rain they were all moving to higher ground (when we stayed with my Gram, in the foothills of the Sierra's out side of Clovis, Ca.), the fishing, the tag. I remember jacks, and chinese checkers, base ball games where no one won. Fire works on the fourth of july, sitting in the sand dunes, laughing and having a ball with the family. Cold watermelon, picnics on the beach, chase the dog. Catching frogs, pollywogs, and red racers. First crush on the neighbor boy down the street. Horse tag, and races in the fields. Playing horses. Laughing until your sides hurt, at the stupidest jokes. Grandpa teaching us to fish and bait the hook. Shooting lessons. Studying to get our hunting permits. Bike races galore. I don't remember ever saying "I'm bored. Playing in the tree fort that belonged to the Anderson's. My brother carrying me home when I got my fingers smashed in the door. Life was good, laid back, and summer vacation was more than just a break from school work. Boy was I a Tomboy.