Redneck fort...

We moved when I was 7 to Oregon, from Nebraska.

In a BlueBird Bus.

My dad took all the seat outs except one.

All our worldly possessions were loaded in the back.

And westward we went.

It broke down in Wyoming. Dad sold 2 guns to pay for the parts to repair it.

It broke down in Idaho. My Nana came and got us.

They had it towed. And the tow truck dropped it down a small ravine.

It stayed in storage for a year.

They had to sue to get damages covered and buy a new fridge.

They had it moved to our backyard.

It stayed there for 10+ years.

Yep, 10 years.

It was extra storage. It was a hay barn. It was fort. It was a make believe house.

It was a bus, in our backyard. The possibilities were endless.

We pretended to 'smoke' straw. Stole a lighter from Nana. We should have blown up.

An old bus with a tank of gas, full of dry hay, and kids with lighters. That's grace. folks.

We built tunnels with the hay. We made a 'house', couch, beds and all.

My dad sold parts off of it. Little by little it was dismantled, engine wise.

Everyone knew our house in the neighborhood. It was the one with the bus in the backyard.

Even in a small, redneck town - that stood out.

And it was a great hiding place for hide-and-seek.

It was a great place to make out.

It was a great place to storm off too.

Yeah, I did have an 'interesting' childhood. Don't we all?

Did you? What makes other peoples childhood interesting?

Oh yeah...making out- that was hypothetically speaking. I would have never done that.

There was a hill in town for that.