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Touring around our town's little fair this weekend caused a flood of childhood memories to come over me. I can remember going to all the little fairs in the Ottawa Valley as a child. Most often, I could be seen like this:
I still want to be a cowgirl when I grow up!
Yes, that is my horse.  
But I do remember going on the rides with my cousins, popping balloons to win a cheap prize, and of course all the junk to eat.  Which in hindsight, was never, ever as tasty as one of Grandma Fisher's butter tarts, or a slice of blueberry pie!

That got me thinking of Grandma and Grandpa Fishers' farm.  Some of the best childhood memories a little girl could have.   Whether in the kitchen with Grandma poking making bread dough, or in the barn, swinging and exploring the hayloft where the cats always hid their kittens (although getting the hay Up there...not as much fun), riding horses, exploring the fields and woods nearby, milking cows, getting to drive the manure spreader.  Hey, it's not all clean fun!    But the horses were definitely my favourite.   Especially when I saw Grandpa polishing up the buggy:
me and Grandpa touring
I did love all animals though.   Some too much.   I am told this dog used to run and hide in the corn field when it saw me arrive.   It pushed me down in the mud once....I think it was in revenge.  But I guess I told him: as my aunt who was coming to help distinctly heard "F*ck off dog!", and had to run laughing back into the house.   But I still loved Sam!

My mind is drifting back to a time when cousins were your best friends.   Not that you didn't have other best friends to dance around with.   Willing to bet that Shaun Cassidy is playing in the background.
me and best friend Lesley at a birthday party of mine....is that the "bump"?

When a little girls' most prized possessions are her favourite dress 

Her Barbie doll house (With an elevator!)    

and you can remember your first dollar earned

Had to include a picture of me with long(er) hair.  I was such a tomboy. 
Pretty sure this Was Not one of my more favourite moments:
loved that Taz shirt...cried when it got too small!

Wow.  It sounds so idyllic, doesn't it?   Like the rain never fell.  The wind never raged.  But of course, those things happened too.   As I was browsing through all these old photos in preparation for this post, I couldn't ignore the fact that there was no daddy in any of them.    Most definitely all of it has molded me into the person I am today.    The pictures seem to present a perfect childhood, but who really has a perfect childhood?   Can any of us, no matter what we came from, or where we ended up, say that all our dreams came true?

But you know, I think it's all in the choosing.   I choose to carry these memories along with me as I traverse this life.  I choose to let the bad ones fade away.   Because I am so strong?  Denial?  No.  I choose because I owe it to that smiling little girl, with her tomboy hair and her tumbling ways, to hold her memories safe.  To not allow them to be forgotten in an old shoebox high atop a shelf, while the sad trials of this world cause them to fade. 

I am still that girl, and she is me.
That is how the dream carries on.