Boise was an amazing place to grow up. Saturday mornings in the summer you would see beautifully colored hot air balloons that would line the horizon above the city center. The little zoo, museum, paddle boats, and the rose garden in the downtown area were magical, and we loved enjoy all of that. There was a walking path that runs through downtown, connecting a few of the major parks, called the Green Belt. It would often be lined with geese, which we would bring bread to feed. We loved walking the paths over the Boise river and under main roads. Our family enjoyed the women’s fitness run in the spring and Festival of the Trees in the winter.
My home was in a cozy neighborhood, where I knew many of my neighbors. One of our neighbors, Dutch, was an old fellow who lived just around the corner. I often went to his house with Rachel, my younger sister. When we got there he always had some sort of little treat, small sized perfume bottles or travel size something or another. Merleen lived a few doors down from Dutch and we would often pass her on our bikes while she was outside gardening. The Huckstpes had the coolest back yard feature, that was a life size cave, the Maxi's had horses that I would often ride with my friend Cary around the neighborhood. I loved her pony Patches. There are so many other families, the Bryants and Fletchers (where my best friend lived), the Burnhams and the Graybills. I know I'm missing so many, but they were all part of this lovely neighborhood. There were empty lots that we would cut through, and often came home with a goat head or two stuck in our tires. We filled our time with things like bike riding, playing in the yard, 4H, night games, kick the can, bonfires, volleyball, sleepovers on the trampoline. I remember so many afternoons, walking to the Mav (Maverick gas station) that was just down the hill from our home.
The lots in my neighborhood were all about 1 acre, which left the homes with large yards for us kids to play in. Many of the lots had pastures with an occasional goat or sheep or chickens roaming, and of course we had a neighborhood “cat lady”. One year we borrowed a neighbor’s pasture and raised sheep in a 4h club for the fair. My brother Sam and I raised our two lambs at the same time. We took our lambs on walks through the neighborhood on dog leashes. Sometimes the lambs would get stubborn and just stop. We would pinch their tails to get them to go, but it was still hard to convince them. They were pretty stubborn little animals. Not soon after I got my lamb he had gotten sick and I stayed with him for hours in the pasture. I loved my lamb and was so excited to participate in the fair with him. During the fair we paraded our lambs in a large circle around a pen surrounded by an arena. This is where the lambs were judged and then were auctioned off to thier new owners. My lamb was smaller than all the other lambs and didn’t win any ribbons, but I did get a ribbon, I don’t remember what, probably some participation consolation. No one bought my lamb at the auction, so we brought him home until someone else could purchase him. A man my dad worked with ended up buying my beloved lamb, and I was so pleased. A couple weeks later my brother and I got into a fight and he yelled out, “I killed your lamb!”.This is when my brother cruelly taught me about the fate of my dear lamb that I had raised. I had no clue that the lamb was being sold to be eaten. Looking back, I’m not sure how I missed that!
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