Bean Blog

The Truth about Julie 

Or 

Tomboy Extraordinaire or Triple Trouble

My first recollection is napping in my crib and waking up to our pet Siamese cat playing with my toes through the blankets. “So what,” you say “that sounds pretty harmless.” Let me remind you, I was in a crib, behind bars.

At about the age of five, I remember finding a tube of bright red lipstick. Off I went to find an uneducated soul. I did find one around the block, a cute little boy a couple of years my younger. “Let’s see how this looks on his lips…Good… but even better, let’s make a clown face!!!” My mother got an angry phone call from and even angrier mother.

I’ve had a sweet tooth all my life and many, many cavities. Maybe it’s from the boxes of Jell-O I used to steal from our storage room. You remember Pixie Sticks? Jell-O is even tastier. Talk about cavities… I hated the dentist. One fateful exam, it was determined I had twenty-three cavities. Well, I hated shots even more than I hated dentists and refused to have any before the drilling. I was told to hold up my hand, which I did often, if the pain became too great and the Doc would stop for a moment to let me recover. Phew… I was glad when the last tooth had its silver patch.

My older sister DeAnn must have felt sorry for me because the next year she took me to the dentist she worked for. I must have been about seven years old. He was located in downtown Provo, many miles from our home. While she was in the back, I took off out the door, around the corner and down the road.

I was NOT going to sit in the torture chair again. It took so long to find me, I missed my appointment. It didn’t bother me a bit! I beat the establishment.

My sisters and I would play hide and seek in our home during the cold winter months. We had a laundry chute in the hall way. I found it a great hiding place as I could climb into the downstairs, escaping through the bars. Rue the day, when attempting the same trick after not doing it for a very long time, I found I was stuck fast between the bars. I had grown and was too big. I started yelling at the top of my lungs for help. Everyone including my dad ran downstairs to see what was the matter and upon finding me, all stood back and laughed and laughed. I guess I looked pretty funny hanging half in and half out but REALLY… they didn’t have to laugh like that!

One day I got the great idea to go fishing. I found a safety pin that would work just fine for a hook, a long piece of string for the line and a stick for the pole. Now I had to find water. I remembered the river about three miles from my house. Not wanting to make the trip alone I talked a four year old neighbor to go along. Being a fearless six year old, I felt quite confident in my undertaking. I shudder now to think of what I did. Not only was it three miles away but we traveled a busy road and where the road dropped down into the bottoms, it was very curvy and narrow. Not a place you would walk down because of traffic not to mention being a short sized six and five year old. We made it to the river. Again I shudder. Provo River is fast moving and dangerous. But undauntedly I hauled that kid to the river’s edge and tried my hand at fishing. You can guess what happened. (I didn’t even have bait!) I was so disappointed. Crestfallen we started for home. About a mile before we got there the boy’s father pulled up, got out gathered his son and me up (after spanking me!) and took us home.

I loved my pets and I loved horses. But my mother DID NOT. (I really think she had a soft spot for them though, I figured that when she stuck a straw in the dirt of the jar of red ants I had collected and gave them some water).

She did not appreciate my fuzzy brown hamster. I had run away from home and had ridden my bike a couple of miles to buy it at Woolworth’s. I remember proudly carrying it home by the little metal handle of the box that looked like a Chinese carry out container. She didn’t know anything about it till the next day. I was at school and she kept hearing a scratch, scratch under my bed. Upon investigation she uncovered the doll clothes closet I had turned into a hamster den. I was so upset that she made me ride my bike all the way back to return it.

Nor did she appreciate the couple of different times I tried to sneak a kitten downstairs. Darned things couldn’t keep their mouths shut.

I remember bringing stray dogs home whenever I could find them. One day I found a beautiful Red Setter. That one my mother kept, if only for a few hours until the owner could be located.

One of my sisters had a fish. I figured it needed washing. Oops, down the drain it went. I tried it with the turtle next. I was careful he didn’t go down the drain, but soap didn’t agree with him and he killed over.

We had an irrigation ditch that ran in back of our home. I used to love walking down it, peering into people’s back yards. One day I noticed a pigeon coup and decided to have a look inside. What to my wonder? I found three little pigeon eggs and nestled into a nest. “Ohhh, I could raise them for my own,” I thought. I carefully gathered them up and took them home. I have no idea how those people found out it was me, (could I have some sort of a reputation in the neighborhood?) but my mom got another phone call. Dang, back they went.

My infatuation with horses came as soon as I could say the word horse. While driving along, my dad would say, “Look Julie, there’s a cow.” “No, Daddy, that’s a horse.” He could never fool me!! . I loved tying things up. I had a little scout rope that was used for practicing knots. I still remember my mom telling people how she had stepped outside and noticed a dried up worm tied with one end of that scout rope the other end tied around a Popsicle stick that was sticking upright in the ground. When asked about this bizarre finding I explained that the worm was really a horse and I just staked him out to eat grass. I still can’t figure out how I got that rope tied around a worm.

I don’t know how I became so crazy about riding them though. A horse alone in a field within three miles was not safe from me. Even from a very early age I had horse radar. And I had absolutely no fear. I would get a horse down in a ditch so I could get on him, no saddle, and no bridle. Some places I would get the horses next to a fence so I could climb on. I got into trouble once for riding a horse that wasn’t even broken. The other times, no one ever knew about.

While driving with my dad I remembered seeing horses down in the river bottoms about three miles from our home. I was eight or nine years old. They were in a field with lots of trees in back. It wasn’t long till I made the trek on my bike to check them out. It was in the same place I had been several years before when I had taken the four year old fishing with me. This soon became a favorite horse riding place for me resulting in quite a few journeys far from home. I found lots of bailing twine which I fashioned into a corral which enabled me to catch my prey. I also invented the first bailing twine bridle. With an old stump I clamored up and had many a good ride. I soon found the twine bridle wasn’t much good. In exploring an old barn I found a bit and some old leather strips. What treasures! I took them and made my own bridle.

I was so excited about my new find; I took my friend and his younger sister with me to the horses to ride. Somehow, he fell off and broke his arm. Oh, what to do now….I stashed my bridle to be picked up later and we ended up at the nearest house, using the story of him falling off his bike, and the kind lady called his Mom.

One day, my dad found that bridle where I had hidden it in the dog house. He called me to him and asked about it. I fessed up to the crime of stealing, and alluded to my escapades. Funny thing was, he didn’t get mad at me and I thought I saw a hint of a smile as he turned and left. “All Right!” I thought, “Green Light!”

The broken arm thing didn’t stop me. After all, it was my friend who broke his arm, not me. Once I was with my mother as she worked at the Bishop’s Storehouse. I wanted to go outside but was told, in no uncertain terms, to stay by the door. I did for about three minutes. I had spied the top of a barn roof over some trees in the distance. A barn could mean horses so I took off. I did find the horses but got stomped on trying to ride them. I saw three boys coming so I hid in the barn. Too late, they had seen me go in. They hunted until I was found. Lucky for me they were nice and upon seeing my injured leg helped my back to the storehouse. Another time I was kicked by a colt I was chasing. Two hind feet right to my chest. I thought I was going to die. I also was bucked off; fell off and even got suckers on my legs while chasing horses through streams. I took it all in stride. They were the hazards for the great feeling of flying through the trees on horseback.

So now when you wonder where your kids came by their spit and vinegar, you’ll give pause and remember. Next I may tell you about another four years of my life!