I wish my family had owned a video camera when I was a kid, back in the 70’s.
Because if we had, I would have proof that once upon a time, before childbirth and aching knees, I was a pretty athletic person.
My kids never saw me climbing the trees in our yard so many times, I wore the branches smooth.
They wouldn’t believe I always did the “guy” version of push-ups and pull-ups in PE class – not the girl version.
I ran track, I played volleyball, and I was actually coordinated.
That’s me – far left, from row – circa 1983 on the drill team – complete with saddle shoes, and a skirt that was too short.
While hanging out in Arkansas over the weekend, I went to a rock climbing gym, where my middle son was participating in a fund-raising climb. Each volunteer climbed the wall 50 times, and all together that equaled the height of Mt. Everest.
I was just there to watch, and be amazed at their youth and vigor.
And then they asked me if I wanted to climb.
Those childhood memories of tree climbing came flooding back, and I had to try it – had to.
I decided to climb just like I did as a kid – barefoot.
Forget the climbing shoes. We didn’t have them when I was a kid, thank you very much!
They directed me to the easiest wall to climb (not the one my son is on below).
My son stood below me – ready to catch me if I fell (or die trying to catch me).
My toes gripped the first foothold, and I reached for the hold above me.
He cheered me on, “You’ve got this, Mom!”
I reached for the next hold, and climbed up higher.
“You’re doing great, Mom!”
So I went a little higher.
I felt like a kid again – this was fun!
But then I struggled, trying to reach the next hold.
I moved one foot to a different hold, but still couldn’t reach one above me.
I moved my foot again, but still couldn’t get a grip on one.
And that’s when I realized why they wear climbing shoes.
Suddenly, those footholds were digging into my feet.
Suddenly, I didn’t feel like a kid again.
It was all I could do to work my way back down the short distance I had climbed – my feet screaming, “you idiot!” at me all the way.
Once I had my feet firmly planted back on the ground, I realized I should probably stick with things that don’t hurt my feet…
Like putting together a country Christmas centerpiece.
The worst thing that can happen is I get a splinter from the barn wood, or a pine cone pokes me.
Layering things on wood is what makes me happy these days, and it’s much safer!
My kids are just going to have to take my word for it that I used to be athletic…
Back in the day.
One piece of barn wood decorated 2 ways – on the left for autumn and the right for Christmas.
I have a set of 6 of the old milk bottles available in my online shop HERE.