Well.....that is until the technological age entered the world.....and your friend starts a blog.....and needs material......
Sooooo.....I grew up in a small rural community. In our high school, just like every one in America, there are the cliques of kids.....much like what is portrayed in John Hughes' 1985 movie, "The Breakfast Club." There are brains.....princesses.....athletes.....basket cases.....and criminals. But.....it was clearly evident, that Hughes did not portray the film having taken place in a Mid~Western state. If he had.....he would have included in the line~up......farmers.
In seventh grade, the groupie lines are not as clearly drawn, as they are once you get into high school. Of course there are the cliques.....but they are more broadly defined.....popular and unpopular. Now.....quite honestly, I didn't see myself in either. I was however, a gymnast, and the spring before my eighth grade year, I made the cheer squad for the upcoming year. I also made a rare, life~long friend......Tough-Cookie.
Tough-Cookie made the squad too......and she began introducing me to a lot of her pals, that would fall into the "farmer" group our freshman year of high school. She was raised in the south part of the county where Farmers Rd. ran a long stretch.....and many of the reputable hog farming operations were located nearby. She was a country girl through and through.....pretty as the wildflowers sproutin' up on the side of a country road, and an itty--bitty thing.....and shew wee!......she could wrestle a hog! Her Daddy had her raisin' and showing hogs through 4~H early on......those little piggies put her through college!
Anyway.....once we got into high school, and continued making the football cheer squad together each season through our senior year.....we were nearly inseparable mid-August through the beginning of November. There we many sleep overs at her house or mine.....we have gotten in trouble together, and spent many an hour bumping along in her 1972 olive green Maverick together.....coming to and from our houses.....back and forth to cheer leading practice, and Friday night games in our matchy~matchy shoes, flippy skirts and hair bows. Many years we ended our season by celebrating our birthdays together.....hers on Halloween, mine on All Saint's Day.
One of those years our parents agreed, that we could have a big party out at Cookie's house.....complete with a big bonfire, and all the fixin's. Shin~digs in the country were popular among the teens. Even the kids that didn't hang out with the "farmer" crowd.....liked to come. Especially if they had a steady boy or girl.....it was prime opportunity.....to sneak off to the barn. Ah hem.....if ya know what I mean.
Now.....Cookie had a crush on a red cheeked, strawberry blonde fella named John Deere, from seventh grade to our senior year. As we were making our plans, and decided the guest list.....of course he was on it. I too, had a boy that I wanted to invite.....an older "farmer-athlete," a football player. The night of the party we were giddy with excitement.....everyone was coming.....and "the ones" that we really wanted there, had accepted our invites.
While I grew up in a rural community, and in college I was considered a country girl......I was the city slicker next to Tough-Cookie. When we were getting the food ready, story goes, there was an indifference of how the chips should be served.....from the bag, or from a bowl. "We are serving weenies from a stick! The chips don't need to be in a bowl....." She argued. I guess I thought that was barbaric. We served them in a bowl......I don't know who I was trying to impress. I know now, that sixteen year old boys don't care if chips are in a bowl......and the two that were coming for us.....just wanted to get to the barn.
The party was classic.....wholesome.....innocent.....country fun. A bonfire.....yummy hot dogs.....marshmallow fights.....hay~ride.....Garth Brooks and Hank Jr. blarin'.....laughter.....running in the fields.....aanndd.....taking a detour. Right. Into. The. Barn. We were going to see the pigs......yep. Needed to check on the pigs.....
So lets level.....if you have never kissed someone.....in a barn.....by a bunch of grunting pigs.....you, my friend.....have not lived. While we were kissin' our someone, by a bunch of wallowin' and snortin' pigs......I nearly jumped from my skin, upon hearing a death defining, blood curdling scream. Evidently, Tough~Cookie had her appropriate limits of toughness......when it came to rodents. While her, and John Deere were face planted into each other......she took a split second peek (guess she thought she was dreamin').....and saw a rat! Well.....I just about peed my pants.....and wasn't gonna hang around to find out what was causing such horror. I wanted a head start on whatever 1980's nightmare movie character, apparently was after us. I wasn't going to chance, getting hung on a meat hook. So long "Farmer-Football!" I was a fast runner.
I made it back the the house in record time, only to look back at the boys, who were doubled over in hysterical laughter.....and Tough~Cookie stomping back. "I saw a rat!" She announced disgruntled. "Oh. That's it?" I responded thankfully. I was just glad that Jason, or Freddie weren't after us.....they seemed to hit a lot of teenager parties in the country. "What happens in the barn, stays in the barn!" She told me. I could tell then, that her pride was hurt more at those farm boys laughing at her, than she was upset about seeing that rat. "Well.....their the ones you need to tell that too" I threw back. "Oh! They know!" She responded with authority. So.....there was a code of ethics in confidentiality in God's country.....and I guess if you don't honor it.....
.....what goes around, comes around.....and pretty quickly out here. First of all, the kissin' was over for the evening......second of all, the young lads' lack of chivalrous behavior pretty much caused the night to be called. As John Deere was leaving, he backed his farm truck right into the ditch.....Tough~Cookies Daddy had to pull him out with the tractor. He had some humble pie to eat.....and as he pulled away red faced....I yelled "What happens in the barn.....stays in the barn!"
That was more than 20 years ago, and through college.....a time that we lost track of one another.....marriages.....a divorce.....babies.....loss of a parent.....serious illnesses in the family.....and normal, boring~is~good, everyday life.....we are still friends. We have been friends for 26 years.....our children, are friends now, too.
In honor of friendship......Tough~Cookies, Northern West Virgina business Llama's Bowtique, would like to give one Daisy Boots reader, a custom sized and colored, matchy~matchy "Tutu and Bow" set, for the little ballet~princess in your life. All you have to do, is share a comment about one of your friends (in the comments section below, or my Facebook page).....it can be funny.....a tribute.....or something you enjoy together. If you don't have a friend.....you can make one up. I went through that, when I was four. I had two.....Amy and Micheal.....and they liked chocolate chip cookies.....
Deadline for comments is this Wednesday at 5 pm. One winner will be picked at random.....and announced sometime this Thursday. Anyone may enter to win.
Good luck.....have fun.....and remember.....
What happens in the barn.....stays in the barn!