First day at Native Lands
Dear Peruser,
Today was my first day at the petting farm that isn't. It's called Native Lands and there is a Bison AND a Zebra. Unfortunately there aren't any pens for kids to enter so I got to paint faces. I was excited about it but it got old really quickly. I mean they could only have two colors and six stripes, no spots yadda yadda. Parking the busses earlier was more fun so I had to put my spin on it otherwise I would have been face down in cups of paint. So as I slapped the paint on some of the cutest faces in the world, I gave them a name to go along with it. We had the Warrior of the Bear, the Warrior of the Far Mountains. Warrior Princess of the setting sun. Warrior princess of the never ending harvest. All with stripes but no one said the lines couldn't wiggle or zigzag and it really wasn't my fault that the one line compressed itself so that it looked like a dot. It was a line. I swear it was only a very very short line.
Well before I knew it, I had kids clamoring for me to do their faces, just because I gave them warrior names. Oddly enough, I did the face painting and the naming at the same speed as the others were just painting faces. As for me, I am now theWearier Princess of the painted hands. I swear it was easier wrestling pigs.
And I think I'm sunburned. Can you believe it. March and I'm sunburned, paint covered and really tired.
It's yellow shirts for the native lands staff. I love yellow and since this is only four days they ask if you want to take your shirt home with you each night or leave it there. Euuyyyuuwww. They offered me an xlg paint smudged shirt or I could have a 2x. If I'm going to wear a smudged shirt, they better be my smudges. Oddly I got no paint on my shirt but I have paint on my knee. I'm wearing jeans, to my ankle, there is no paint on my pants leg but there is paint on my knee. Maybe I'm the warrior princess of the painted knee.
These kids were absolutely adorable. Sweet faces, rounded cheeks and a giggle whenever the paint brush came down their nose. They all thanked us, despite the fact that they had to pay and extra dollar for the face paint, no pushing, no shoving. I still wish there were animals. It feels odd to be there without pigs.
Speaking of there. The Native Lands is held at a place called Blob's Park on Max Blob road. Many centuries ago when I was a kid, Blob's Park was a place the relatives went on a Sunday. The adults could polka and drink and the kids got to run around doing who knows what. I know I went there and I think there was a donkey and a pig but those animals belonged to the park. I find that I disremember a lot of things about childhood but the memory that really stands out to me is my two oldest girl cousins out there dancing to some jukebox song that had something to do with High Heels. We lost one of those cousins before Christmas but in my mind she's always there dancing and laughing and giving me those big squeezy hugs of hers. Even more heart breaking is the snapshot I found yesterday. Me as a baby in my father's arms and cousin Betty (not more than four) laughing with me and holding my hand. I'm the only one left of the trio in the picture.
That's it for today. I need a nap. ---me---
Today was my first day at the petting farm that isn't. It's called Native Lands and there is a Bison AND a Zebra. Unfortunately there aren't any pens for kids to enter so I got to paint faces. I was excited about it but it got old really quickly. I mean they could only have two colors and six stripes, no spots yadda yadda. Parking the busses earlier was more fun so I had to put my spin on it otherwise I would have been face down in cups of paint. So as I slapped the paint on some of the cutest faces in the world, I gave them a name to go along with it. We had the Warrior of the Bear, the Warrior of the Far Mountains. Warrior Princess of the setting sun. Warrior princess of the never ending harvest. All with stripes but no one said the lines couldn't wiggle or zigzag and it really wasn't my fault that the one line compressed itself so that it looked like a dot. It was a line. I swear it was only a very very short line.
Well before I knew it, I had kids clamoring for me to do their faces, just because I gave them warrior names. Oddly enough, I did the face painting and the naming at the same speed as the others were just painting faces. As for me, I am now theWearier Princess of the painted hands. I swear it was easier wrestling pigs.
And I think I'm sunburned. Can you believe it. March and I'm sunburned, paint covered and really tired.
It's yellow shirts for the native lands staff. I love yellow and since this is only four days they ask if you want to take your shirt home with you each night or leave it there. Euuyyyuuwww. They offered me an xlg paint smudged shirt or I could have a 2x. If I'm going to wear a smudged shirt, they better be my smudges. Oddly I got no paint on my shirt but I have paint on my knee. I'm wearing jeans, to my ankle, there is no paint on my pants leg but there is paint on my knee. Maybe I'm the warrior princess of the painted knee.
These kids were absolutely adorable. Sweet faces, rounded cheeks and a giggle whenever the paint brush came down their nose. They all thanked us, despite the fact that they had to pay and extra dollar for the face paint, no pushing, no shoving. I still wish there were animals. It feels odd to be there without pigs.
Speaking of there. The Native Lands is held at a place called Blob's Park on Max Blob road. Many centuries ago when I was a kid, Blob's Park was a place the relatives went on a Sunday. The adults could polka and drink and the kids got to run around doing who knows what. I know I went there and I think there was a donkey and a pig but those animals belonged to the park. I find that I disremember a lot of things about childhood but the memory that really stands out to me is my two oldest girl cousins out there dancing to some jukebox song that had something to do with High Heels. We lost one of those cousins before Christmas but in my mind she's always there dancing and laughing and giving me those big squeezy hugs of hers. Even more heart breaking is the snapshot I found yesterday. Me as a baby in my father's arms and cousin Betty (not more than four) laughing with me and holding my hand. I'm the only one left of the trio in the picture.
That's it for today. I need a nap. ---me---
posted by ---me--- at Monday, May 01, 2006
1 Comments:
And you, Dear Heart, are Warrior of the Children...and a mighty fine one, too.
Signed,
The Peruser
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