A very courageous B made the long and (mentally) arduous journey home with me this past week. He met family and friends, toured the most touristy parts of Boston, experienced Fenway and Yawkey Way (even though ultimately the game was rained out), and sat through more than one scrapbook of “Look how cute Livitluvit was at age 2… and age 6… and age 10… and oh dear god, if you’d really like to laugh, here she is at age 14, before she knew how to deal with curly hair and had a mouth full of metal.”
One of the foggy memories of my childhood that I had mentioned to B involved the summers I spent of my grandparents’ farm. My Papa was a dairy farmer, and I grew up knowing more about Holstein vs. Jersey vs. Brown Swiss cows than your average 10-year-old, to be sure. In fact, I had a calf of my very own, named Francy. And I showed her.
Yes, you read that right. In true 4H-style, I used to show cows at the Dutchess County Fair in Rhinebeck, New York. I’m not saying I was good at it- most notably, the first awards ceremony sticks out in my mind; each of the cows was chosen and lined up accordingly, and I was in second place! I could barely contain my pride and excitement- that is, until I was handed a ribbon that said 13th… (out of 14). I don’t know where I got the idea that they counted down to the winner, but hey, I was 9. Ah well, at least I still had Francy…
This was just one of the many embarrassing photographs, awards, articles and home-made artifacts gracing the pages of the numerous scrapbooks my mother has been amazing enough to make for me. And B got to see every single one… poor thing. At least I got to prove to him my cow-showing years really happened, as did the Ugly Duckling years, and the many plays and musicals I hammed my way through.
At least we made it out alive without watching the video of me, at age 4, presenting my first 1-man show: a hand-puppeted rendition of the “3 Billy Goats Gruff.” From memory. Voices and everything. I can still hear my little toddler’s version of the troll growling, “Who’s that trip-trapping over my bridge?!”
What can I say? I started charming my way through life early.
{ 11 comments }
I did nothing so exciting at 9…I think I was watching Saved by the Bell reruns.
That just goes to show how behind the times I am… I watch Saved by the Bell reruns now. What, it’s not my fault it’s on TBS from 7-8am, exactly the time I’m getting ready in the mornings!!!
My favorite part of looking at the elementary school pictures:
Liv: Awww, that’s such a cute picture of [little sister] and I.
Little sister: What! That’s not even me in the picture.
Liv: Oh. Well it’s still cute.
It would appear some things never change: http://livitluvit.blogspot.com/2008/08/much-belated-apology-to-other-one-my.html . Joking…of course.
B: Actually, what I said was, “Look! I loved you!” And she said, “That’s not me! That’s our cousin Katie!”
Oops… in my defense, I didn’t look very closely… I just saw a head full of blond curls (which SHE got and I did NOT)… I do love you though, lil sis.
And you too, B. Even though you and my fam spent the whole week making fun of me.
That is a seriously cute photo, LL. Adorable.
Wow I had no idea you were a farm girl..maybe I remember you mentioning it but never knew you showed cows!!
Hahah…def going to make fun of your for this one.
B, LOOOOOOOVE the blog… I may have to send my sister the url…
Frecks: Thanks, woman. I used up all my cuteness before age 13.
Kbo: I figured you would, my darling. I wouldn’t have it any other way
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