Boy, where do you even start?

By   jmjmotox@aol.com

Boy, where do you even start?

200 miles to Cleveland might as well be a million. Don't get back as often as I would like. The first year every other weekend, the second maybe once a month, the third Christmas. Now it seems like never.

The kids are getting bigger and buisier, work is getting longer and that small town just keeps getting farther away.Well its Christmas time again and maybe the wife and I will go back to see our parents and grandparents again.

It sure would be nice if we could just bring a little bit of that small town back with us and teach some of the rest of the world what it is like growing up in the "hills" and the snow. The "snow belt" as they call it out here is nothing compared to the mountains back there. The small cricks and hunting and fishing with my father as a young boy is something you can't bring back or teach your own kids without that atmosphere.

The trips to my grandmother's Drive In, sitting on the hill watching movies, and going the next morning to get the stale left over popcorn. Hikes to Wolf's Rocks at Babcock, snowmobiling out on the mountain, and just plain hanging out. Swimming in the sulpher water around Paint sure did heal up the cuts and scrathes from playing in the woods all day.

Well,... maybe an extra couple of hundred miles on my truck a month wouldn't be such a bad thing after all, besides maybe my kids could get as much out of that town as we all did and not end up as city slickers but a hillbilly as they call me.


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