The Wall

I remember seeing "The Wall" out in the distance around the time I had gotten married.  There it was....a tall, brink a$$ wall far out there.  Leering at me with it's rust colored, dusty brick eyes.  "Awww yeah girl...one day.....your face is going to splatter against my awesome brink chest.  You can run girl....but ya can't hide!

Oh trust me...you can't hide from a massive brink wall my friend.  It will patiently stalk you, lumber up to you, back you into a corner & squish the poop out of you.

I was young, stupid & sometimes very cocky in my spiritual thinking.  Listen....you can't become weak if you do the right things.  If you read your Scriptures, pray daily, give tithing, go to church...basically if you lay down your life for the gospel...you'll be fine.  I mean....lets face it...those who can't take their trials or lose their testimony, are just aren't doing things right.  They obviously let Satan creep in to their brains.  They let Satan work himself into their thought & hearts.  But that wouldn't happen if they stayed strong.  People can overcome anything if they just work hard!

Oh yes....I...did.



Because that's what I was taught.  Trials will come.  Life ge4s hard.  But.......say this Hallmark card greeting with me.......

"God doesn't hand you anything you can't handle"


Come on...we've all felt that quote

(By the way...not in the bible.  Closest thing would be 1 Corinthians 10:13.  Or closer yet.....

"I know God will not give me anything I can't handle. I just wish that He didn't trust me so much."

Mother Teresa

Even Mother Teresa felt overwhelmed....but don't compare yourself to Mother Teresa....cuz....she's freak'n Mother Teresa.... you are not!)

We've all heard some form of it spewed in church.  We've all fallen pray to that nasty little quote.  We've all felt small & weak because we couldn't get past the hurt of something terrible that has happened to us.

Sure...my Dad would seethe for years about my attendance in the church...But God will provide. wall

Sure....people really did/say nasty things to me in church.....But God will easy my pain. WALL

Sure....my husband & I had no $....but God will help us. wall

Sure.....I had my first baby & fell into the darkest depression of my life...But God will...wait....God?  Ummm God?  Hey, I uh....did everything you asked me too....could I get some help here? WALL

                                         God?

Sure...I dreamt of suicide nightly.....But God...will...maybe

 WALL

Every step of my life the wall follows.  Questions about early history of the church, current history, weird practices, theological questions...constant questions racking my brain.

Why did I join?

Why am I here?

Where is this testimony I have been working on for years?

Where is God?

Did Jesus really live?

wall
Wall
Wall
WALL
WALL

Everyone I asked these questions to always put me down

 (Of course it was never their intentions to put me down.  But would anyone say this crap to a women who spent years trying to get pregnant?!  Oh...well, I know when I have sex every other night I get pregnant.  I know when I get enough sleep I get pregnant.  I know when I stand on  my head after sex I get pregnant. Maybe you are not doing it right)

by saying "Well of course He lives! He listens! This is true! That is true!  I KNOW it's true because I pray!  Read! Go to church! Sing lame Primary songs to keep the Debil away!

Well La-DEE-DA!  Good for you honey!  But that still doesn't help me.  I still don't KNOW anything.

"Well did you pray?"

What?  Did ...you..just

"Well, you need to pray honestly.  Are you paying tithing.?

What the heck is your problem?!

"Are you reading the scriptures.  Answers will come if you read...how about attending the Temple, meeting, doing you callings, taking sacrament, doing your visiting teaching, bearing your testimony, volunteering, listening to wholesome music, confessing your sins, going to church classes, reading the conference talk, doing..."

STOP!  Shut....the....flip'N..heck......up!

"Well, with that attitude Missy...it's no wonder the Spirit has left you!  You'll never get your own testimony with an attitude like that."

AAAGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!! Headdesk! Headdesk! Headdesk!

That has been my whole 20 years in the church.

20 years & no....I KNOW this church is true.  I KNOW Jesus lives.  I know God is God.

nothing.

Nada

Zip

Fail

Flunk

Hang my head in corner.

My best....was not good enough.

                                WALL

3 summers ago....done. Over. Out

I left.  Walked into the Bishops office.  Handed him my special "I'm a good member" temple card & said....I give up.

Then I sat down across from him & said

"Bishop.  Meet....my Wall."

The 19 year old convert

Baptised.
Fresh
Clean
pure

I was now a member of a real live church.  I church I choose.  I church I hoped to one day fully know to be true.  I was happy & content.  Not a care in the world. 

I was surrounded by my old & new friends while I chatted after my dunking.  My father choose not to attend.  He said he could not support me in joining the church.  I couldn't blame him.  All the info he had about my church was from years back when he met some extremest fridge "members" back in the 60's.  They took him in after his rig broke down on a desert high way.  The gave him free room & board.  Fed him & fixed his rig for free.  He stayed a few days with the people.  Playing baseball with the kids & helping the men with their farm work.  He said they were kind, very poor, giving & polygamists.

He just could not support me in a weird cult.  No matter how much I tried to teach him what I was taught....the truth ..... he would have none of it.

And for the first time in my short life, I felt truly, utterly alone.

I pushed those thoughts away as I stood eating cookies with my new congregation. 
I...would enjoy my grown up decision with gusto!  I would eat cookies & cheese potato casserole with abandoned!  I had places to go, people to meet & a religion to adhere to.

The thoughts of loneliness & dread gave way to excitement & exhilaration

I was safe.
I was wanted.




I was a dumb as a box of rocks!

I fear it was my childish faith in the "arm of man" that brought me to where I was a few years ago.  Brought under & drowned in that sea of faithful but ignorant trust.

The night I was baptised a new missionary shook my hand.  He gripped it hard & stared me straight in the eyes.  He words to this day, etched in my brain.  But at that time, those words held no deep meaning.

"Sister...you must always remember.  The gospel of Jesus Christ is true...the people..... are not."

What the heck did that mean?  Well...I sorta knew what he meant.  But it wasn't until I walked through hell with these church people did I fully understand his words.

It took awhile to decode his meaning...which was pretty blunt.  I mean really...ya don't need a decoder ring from a cereal box to understand....GOSPEL = good.  People of earth = a$$hats.

I JUST DID NOT GET IT.

Not even when Brother Ay called those boys n*****s

Or I was called "sweet spirit" over & over again (sweet spirit means nice but ugly and/or slow)

Or when a young man told me he was disappointed in me when I could not fulfill my new calling (job in the church that is volunteer) teaching young children the Gospel...that I just was baptised into!  Even with the tears in my eyes & the vomit still on my shirt from having a panic attach in the bathroom after I fled in failure & humiliation from the room filled with children.

Or when I was taken advantage of for months by a man 7 years older (and wiser he might add) who had no right to touch me.  Who shamed me & messed with my head yet talked about his Priesthood power and how smart he was & how lucky I was to find him.

Or how I found out from a friend of mine, my name had been "written upon the walls" and I was known to a large group of young righteous men as a "snake"...a young women who used her charms (wait....wasn't I a "sweet" spirit few months ago?!) to lure young men to their carnal deaths....but yet all I had done was date the wrong man.  My virginity proudly intact after fighting off advances from that "righteous" Priesthood holding man.     

Or being insulted, demeaned, belittled & talked down to.

Or when I watched the father of the kids I was babysitting call his wife a stupid $itch over & over in front of his friends & his children.  And then to see him in the Holy house of the Lord....wha?!!!

Or listening to women tear into the flesh of their "sisters".  Watching the back stabbing, lying & venom spitting in aw & horror.

Or being just plain ignored.

Or the constant arguments from my father.  Our close relationship forever torn apart by my decision to join a cult. 




I would like to say I was strong in the arms of the Lord.  But at the end of the day,
 I was and will be, for the longest time

a lost, scared, hopeful
19 year old girl

Scales begin to fall

I....was blinded.

Here I was this August day
19
Living with my Dad
Innocent
Ready for an adventure

I joined a church filled with happy people.  People who took interest in me.  Guided me.  Fed me.  Entertained me.  Liked me.

At that moment I had rose colored glasses on.  A thin layer of shiny scales covered my eyes, my brain, my heart.  I had made a safe place for myself. 

I was safe from growing up.  Safe from going off into the world without a net.  This church...these people...would become my net.  I allowed myself to wander off in a crowd of righteous people.  They would guide me, place me on a path I needed to go....even if it ment jostling me about.

I was....safe.

Oh how beautiful those shiny scales made my life look.  How lovely the people.  How clean their lives.  Everything....rose hue.



A week after my baptism I drove to Great America with some friends & their parents.  I sat in the back of the steamy van as I listen to my friends Dad babble on about sports, weather & other mindless things I had no interest in.  It was so nice of this family take me out & about.  Adding me...the convert, so easily to their plans.  I was starting to feel like a baby bird that had been scooped of the ground & carried to a new nest.  Strange but safe. 

That day we ate lunch at our van.  We decided to spend the evening at the park to avoid the heat.  I still remember the ham sandwiches my friends Mom made us.  Yummy & soft.  Ahh, this is the life!

After all tidy & clean, off we walked, through the parking lot...heading towards a night filled with fun.  Up ahead of me I spot them.  2 young men...wandering through the parking lot after spending the day at the park.  They were tall. As they got closer, they become very cute.  Cute.....CuteRrrr...well Hello boys!  Dressed in t shirts & plaid long shorts.  Clean cut.  Tall....boyzzZzzz.

The moment before they pass me they smile & say Hello.  Were they looking at me?  Did my hair look ok?  I throw back a Hi & I ours eyes lock.  Boyzzzz.

Left foot......glance
Right foot....... "Ya know whats the problem with the world today?" My friends father loudly asks his walking brood.

Left foot....."No...whats' that Brother Ay?"

Right foot.....boyz pass me... I can smell their sweaty cologne...swoon.

Left foot.....  "What will mess up this world? 

Those

Damn

N****RS"







BAM!


My feet stop cold.  I feel like I have been punched so hard in the chest I can't breath.

"Damn n****rs" Brother Ay repeats as he marches ahead of me, shacking his head in disgust.

I had seen the boys heads whip toward me...righttt as they pass.  Brother Ay made sure those boys heard him.

I felt the ground slip beneath me.  I watched Brother Ay walk ahead.  He held a "high" calling in my new church.  He held the priesthood.  He had raised a nice family. 

He called those strapping, handsome boys...that..word.

I'm confused & bewildered.  I force my feet to march on the hot pavement. 

"Clink"....behind me....a scale had slipped off my eyes.

I march on to spend the day with my head spinning.  I don't enjoy my night at the park.  I feel hollow & weak.  I'm angry & disgusted.

I hear nothing but those hateful words.

I see nothing but the mask of pain on the young men's faces as they catch my eye....as my fellow member of my church calls them

unthinkable.

"clink"

Why I decided to become found

I was a good egg growing up.  I never got in trouble at school.  Well...ok...I did get detention ONCE in 6th grade for not turning in...get this....a paper for gym class.  I had a good excuse...I was in the process of packing my house & moving to a new town.  So one day, my last week of going to that little country school...I sat in detention.  Turned into more of a going away party for me.  My gym teachers thought it was hilarious.

Me....as the good egg.  And to the chagrin of my friends...very proper.

Smoking...was gross.  Watching...more like... smelling my parents smoke was enough to make me gag at the sight of ciggies.
Drinking....as a kid I went to lot of parties....I stopped drinking at age 6.  So I guess I did drink...yeah...another story for another time.  People who drank acted weird.  Besides...I knew it was bad for me...because in 5th grade I learned all about the dangers of drinking.  (This killed my Dad!  He couldn't have his customary after work drink w/o me being in his face giving all the facts of the hazards of drinking.)
Sex....I have no idea where I got the notion sex was special & reserved for married couples.  My parents never taught me.  School never taught me.  Church never taught me.....because I went to church only on the major holidays.  I just knew from a very early age that sex was special...weird...I know.

Maybe it was because my parents were older.
Maybe is was because I was raised in a barn
or because I saw Frank Sinatra in concert
or because I took ballet for 6 years.

I don't know why I never rebelled.
I guess I was born this way baby.

My rebellion came in the form of joining a religion.

I know...RIGHT?!  Who's does that?

This nutter....that's who!

Luckily I didn't have to leave a religion to join one.  But still my Dad was mighty pissed.   I don't blame him.  My religion can be perceived as wacky sometimes....well lets face it...all religions are wack!

I joined the church because as a 19 year old watching all my friends "grow up" & leave me behind...I was lost.

I joined because I loved the clean life style that was stressed.

I joined because I liked being in a community of people that did good things, & thought happy thoughts & helped people.

I joined because the guys...were really, really hot!

Needless to say... I joined for all the wrong reasons.  Come on people...I was freak'n 19!  I was barely out of diapers!

I studied the religion for about 9 months.  I went through 3 sets of missionaries.  I was stubborn.  I refused to join until I knew everything about it.

But soon...I just wanted to be apart of something good. I wanted to be ...a.....part.  A part of a family.  A part of a great work.  A part of a church community.

One day I sought out  my Bishop after church. (The Bishop is considered the "Daddy" of the group in that area.  That's the best way I can put it)  Bishop was wicked smart.  He never rolled his eyes at me all the times I dropped by his house to talk to him & his wife....which I did a lot.  Because I was kind of a stalker...& because I was a curious savage that couldn't get enough information crammed into my minuscule brain.  Well one day I asked him if it was bad to join a church just because I wanted to?  Just because it felt good at the moment?

 Could I join if I didn't have my own blazing testimony of the gospel.

His answer was  "You can borrow my testimony for a bit if you like.  But you must one day, find one for your self.  And that's not something I can give you.  Every single day you must work on finding your testimony.  And if you do find that you KNOW it's true...you STILL have to work to keep that testimony alive & healthy.  For you...gaining a testimony may take years.  It's not something that is just handed to a person.  That is very rare.  How real life works is, that after all the trials, tears, heartaches & joys...after all is said & done, then you see God's hand.  You will then know it's true.  But until then it can be a struggle.  And for you....it will be a long road....but it will be worth it."

I just sat there.  Trying desperately trying to soak up all his words.  Was I ready to be baptized into a religion that is all actuality, I knew nothing about.  I mean.....shouldn't I have gone to seminary or college to study up on this stuff?  Did I really have the ability to make such a huge decision...the biggest decision that I have ever had to make in my life?

The words "Faith is a hope in things not seen that are real." floated through my head.  I wanted Faith & Hope & hot guys in suits & community & friends & clean living & tithing & cheese casseroles.

I wanted these things.  I wanted things I didn't understand.  I wanted to take a leap of faith.

So I asked my Bishop...."I know I have no idea what I am doing.  I have been studying for 9 months & I feel I will never be ready.  All I know is I feel good & happy when I come here.  I feel safe here.....Can I be baptised even if I don't know for sure if this is the true & only church?"

My dear Bishop said "If you want, I will baptise you.  But do know...this journey will be hard...but it will be worth it.  If you have faith & feel you can work hard, then yes...you can get baptised.  You have to work every single day to be close to God.  If you agree...then it would be my honor to baptise you."

Little 19 year old girl who thought she knew everything...JUMPED at the chance.  I told him...I get baptised...today.  He was very cute.  Clapped his hands together & said "Tonight then...in 3 hours.  This is COOL!  This will be the first time I put a baptizum together is 3 hours!  Usually we have days to plan!  This is FUN!" 

So three hours later on a hot August night...I was baptised by my friend Lee Donaldson.

Here I go....feet first into the unknown.

Let me just say....I don't miss that stupid, naive as hell little girl....she is long gone!  For reality bit me in the butt the moment my hair dried!

Paranoid Ramblings...don't mind me

Well...I've gone & done it.  My family has jumped on the Dave Ramsey love fest.  We are working on the Total $ Makeover.  Woot.

So excited.

Can't wait...........to FAIL!

We have pinged ponged back & forth on debt reduction crap for most of our married life.  For the most part we have done well.  We have done well because my husband knows how to cook the books...wait...that didn't come out right.  We have done well because I take after my mother.  My father use to say "She could squeeze the poop out of a Buffalo coin."

I can squeeze the poopie out of a Buffalo coin....just like my mother before me!

I also am very paranoid about my financial security.

Paranoia has a place.  A nice place sitting on the fluffy chair in my mind.  Let's face it.....my husband owns & keeps me.  I...rely on his income.  I always have relied on others for survival.  First my parents.  Then my father.  And now...my poor husband.  Not only does he have the responsibility to keep me fed & clothed...but he has to keep 4 kids alive!  And a dog!

Some days he rocks in a corner.

and I point & laugh...SUCKER!

Then I take his place in the corner & rock.  Because relying on others...scares the poopie out of me.

Since I need a man to support me...I do my best to support him back.  Like not spending all his money on German chocolate, making him tasty meals, popping out 4 of his kiddos & well....lots of other thing that are not legal to discus.

Heck...I even went out & got myself a job!  A real job where I clock in & wear a uniform & attend meetings!  My tiny pay check is handed over to pay off something or another. 

That silly little pay check helps me feel....not so helpless.

Dang...I hate that feeling of being helpless. I think many women feel that way.  Women "trapped" in their home raising their children...watching their husbands work at a job he hates, day in & day out....giving up his dream (being a toy tester...yeah......dreams...successfully slaughtered!) all because he adores & loves his family more then that dream....of...testing..... toys.

Then I think of all those other women, who just like me feel helpless.

Women who's husbands...just walk away.
Women who's husbands care more about their dreams then the love of their family & refuse to provide
Women's who's husbands slouch over...dead.
Women's who's husbands bodies get ravaged by disease or accident.
Women who never had the pleasure of their man loving them enough to marry them.
Women's who's husband struggle w/ addiction.
Women's who husbands torture & beat them.

As a woman......I feel...powerless sometimes.  As an UNeducated woman I feel helpless.
What if my husband dies, leaves me, hates me, gets sick, get laid off, gets fired, gets jailed, gets drunk...on & on.

What if?

Damn you paranoia!

Oh well...I guess I will use my paranoia to get crack'n on Dave's debt beater-upper.....since I have nothing better to do then to rock in the

corner.

with my husband.











Being a toy tester would have been fun.

Night time habits

My lovely house I lived in had 2 bedrooms.  One upstairs that belonged to my parents. One down stairs..that was mine.  It had 2, deep windows & blue flower wall paper.  I don't remember being scared to be alone at the other end of the house.  But I was uneasy about my room.  It was always freezing cold despite the fact that the wall was...kid you not....3 feet thick.  It always had a breeze swirling though it & the light didn't seem right. And...I hated the blue wallpaper cause if you stared at it long enough you could see faces in it!

My bedroom was later converted to a very small dining room once the upper level was complete.  We used the room 3 times out of the year.  Thanksgiving, Christmas & Easter.  Other then that, we hated being in there.  Can you see the deep set window...yeah....3 feet thick walls...awesome! Note the haircut....why mother, WHYYY????

One night, during the winter as I was fast sleep snug in my bed....my blanket was tugged. 
Tug, tug. 
Tug, tug.
 I remember being really angry that my parents were waking me up.  Soon I was woken up by the freezing cold.  My blanket had been completely removed from my bed....and I couldn't find it.  All I remember was being so angry.  Years later my parents told me that in the dead of night, they were awoken to their little 6 year old standing at the end of their bed yelling at them.  "Where's my blanket?!  I'm cold!  Why did you wake me!"

My Mom thinking I was sleep walking...trotted me back down the dark stairs, walked down the long hallway to my room & plopped into bed.  Apparently I cried & spit 6 year old venom at my haggard mother.  "I want my blanket!"  Once I was in bed....my mother started to get mad at me....my blanket was no where to be found.  She turned on my lights to find it.  It wasn't under my bed or in my closet.  She become steamed thinking I was messing w/ her.  Up the stairs she went to grab my Dad to talk some sense into me.  Fumbling down the the dark stairs my father grumbled.  No blanket = hysterical brat.  My Dad was now on the hunt for my cozy blanket.  He looked in the bathroom, in the den, kitchen then finally he clicked on the light in the living room.

There was my queen sized thick yummy blanket, laid out perfectly in the middle of the living room floor.




Sorry for the bad copy.  Here is part of the living room.  There are the stairs in the background, THEE closet door under the stairs & the hallway entry behind us.  The floor in front of my friend & I is where blankie ended up.Do you like my sexy fine perm?



At first my parents were mad at me...then...they thought about it.  Did I truly drag my blanket out into the living room, dragging it over the huge yellow couch only to splay it neatly on the floor...then to wind up screaming at my parents in my shrill little voice in the dead of night?

That night after they brought me upstairs to sleep on their floor my mother & father decided they would work on the upstairs bedrooms the next day so they could move me out of that room as fast as they could....of course it would take them about 2 more years to make it sleep able.

And for 2 years....it become custom every now & again for me to wake up in the dead of the night & feel that tug..then sliddddd of my blanket.  It become my cue to get up, go potty then hunt for my wandering blanket.  It would hide in the den, kitchen, crumpled on the yellow couch, laid out in the living room or hallway.

This is another picture of that great yellow couch of 70's sassiness!  I just can't get enough of it!  I wish I had it today...it's just breath taking!  carry on...

I would drag it back down the hallway & plop back into bed.  I would grumble a little thinking it was my Dad playing a joke on me.  Then I would complain to him the next day about his blanket joke & how it bugged me....I never caught the panicked look in his eye...only the nervous laugh of him lying to me..."sorry kiddo...I just can't help it." 

My room with a hazy presence.

Childs play

"I really need you to stop it.  I'm having a long day.  No one can play with me, Moms shopping, my Dad is working in the yard, my brother is a jerk & I'm bored."

"No really...you need to stop scaring me, that's not nice.  I'm going to be mad at you if you don't stop."

I often found myself having conversations like this in my house off Pleasant Grove Rd.  One day I was just...not having it.  Life was unfair!  I couldn't play with my friend, my stupid brother was visiting & I was stuck...at home...AGGGHH!  So hard to be a child!

I stormed down stairs after my doofus brother kicked me out of the bathroom.  Hey, it had good acoustics & I needed to perfect Barbara Streisand's Queen Bee...just...because!  Whatever fart face!  Stomp, stomp, stomp...down the stairs.  Flinging myself down onto the yellow couch I seethed & pouted & lamented.

"Creeeeeeeeeeeeeeek."  The closet door behind me slowly opened a crack.  It never took much to have it creeeeek.  You turn the knob...creeeeeek.  A slight pull....... creeeeeek.  The sound of the door was horrible.  No matter how much my Dad WD40-ed it....it would always creeeeek! The door was a heavy solid wood door with an old glass knob.  It was to a closet that was tucked under the stairs.  Pretty cool hiding place.

Creeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek open...creeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek close. 
"creeeeeeeeeeek"            Stop it!
'Creeeeeeeeeeek"            I said STOP!
"Creeeeeeeeeek"            FRED!  AGGGHHHH!

I started to joke to my Dad about the ghost in the house.  He'd laugh & never take me seriously.  He told me as he ruffled my permed hair "Oh...it's just Old Fred.  Just say Hi & he'll leave you alone.  He's just lonely."    He did a fine job about teasing me...but I knew he was just messing around like Dad's do.  Little did I know...the poor guy was doing his best not to tell his daughter "yeah kid....seriously, this house is jacked up! He's watching you.  Run kid RUNNN!"

"Creeeeeeeeek"  ALRIGHT!  I'll play with you but the door has got to stop!

I heard my smelly brother stomping around upstairs yelling for me.  Something about his toothbrush...that I may or may not have rubbed on top of his nasty B.O. stick.

Sensing my own doom at the hands of my cracked out bro I dove into the closet.  The closet went all the way back under the stairs.  The space above my head just got smaller & smaller as I crawled under my Moms fur coats.  I finally wedged myself deep in the bowels of my cave.  As my brother pounded down the stairs grumbling, I watched the light fade as Fred closed the door.  "creeeeeeeeeeeeeek."

"Hey brat...you think I'm stupid!  I could hear the damn door all the way upstairs!  I know you are in there!  Come out or I'll go in after you!"

Gah!  I hate my brother!  I covered my self w/ winter shoes & scarves stored for the winter season & waited.  Doing my best not to laugh & cry.

"Fine!  I'm coming in!"

Try as he might....my brother could not open the door.  I could here him struggle & hit the door w/ his fist.  The old 50 lb door didn't budge.

"Hey twerp, the doors stuck.  You'll be in there all day by yourself!  Dad's out side & he'll never hear you scream. Have fun punk, I'm out of here!"

Exit poop head brother.

I laid under the shoes, in the pitch black slightly panicked.  All I could think about was how was I going to pee?  I had no problem hanging out in the closet, but to pee?  yeah...this would be a problem!

No sooner had I thought that...the door clicked and

Creeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek

A little sliver of sunlight peeped in through the door.

I crawled out from under the tangle of hanging coats & out through the door.

My brother no where to be seen, my 9 year old life spared.

"Thanks Fred!  That was fun! I'll see you later!"

Out of the house I ran, to play with my ducks.

And somewhere in the house, I knew Fred would be waiting for me to come back & play.