Kites and Escape

As a kid I loved flying kites. A lot of my memories are flying bat kites (pictured) with friends and relatives. My memories are of peaceful times flying kites in the fields behind the house amongst the young sugar cane plants. Or with my cousin Tommy at his house, our kites on multiple reels of string, so far they are look like a pinhead. Or times battling kites with friends along the Bayou Teche.

As I reflect, I wonder if back then I was consciously escaping my reality? Was I thinking that I wanted to get out the house? Or was I just out to have a little fun?

Regardless of my motives, the end result is that I enjoy digging up the memories of flying kites! Even today, it brings such peace to my mind. They are such vivid memories. I can clearly hear the noises of the kite along with the rustling of the cane leaves in the March Louisiana winds. It is simply great memories of childhood. I am glad my brain was able to keep such crisp and vivid pictures of these moments of my youth for me to enjoy today.

The kite pictured is a Gayla baby bat kite. Simple design. We called it a bat kite and I only just recently found its "official" name. The kite was plastic and by far the most common kite to find flying the skies of St. Martinville. I love the big eyes! The kite is still available today.

C'est finis.

Ron

Sugar Cane Plantation

I grew up on a sugar cane plantation. Over time I have grown to understand how unique my younger years on the old Burton Plantation actually was. See, I was an only child. My nearest neighbor was about a quarter of a mile from the house. They were an old black couple, the nicest people you'll ever meet. Since I had no neighborhood kids to play with, obviously I had a lot of solo time.
When I wasn't alone, I was spending time with my mom. She played board games with me. Sorry! was my favorite. Or was it landslide? Maybe during election time I preferred Landslide. She keep me active in sports and scouts. I also spent nights at friends. All was good. You take out the chaos caused by my father's drinking and it was a good childhood. I loved where I lived. I enjoyed my childhood. If the house had been in "livable" condition, I would define it as perfect.
Ok, back to my solo time. I get so scatter brained sometimes! On our immediate property, I had all I needed to enjoy myself. I built farms with my tractors and trucks. I'd feed the chickens and checked the hen house for eggs. There was grass to cut and vegetables to harvest. Flew kites in the spring.

But what I enjoyed the most was playing football! I had a big yard on the side of the house that was my football field. Nice open space with thick soft grass. I'd spend hours playing football by myself. I played alone, of course, and dreamed I was both a high school and LSU football star. I threw to myself. I tackled myself. Heck, I even announced the games. I won and and I lost games. What a great time! As if I was following my favorite team, those games are also very memorable to me know.
Behind the house and across the highway was miles of sugar cane fields. I roamed these fields on a Honda Mini Trail 50 my parents bought for me. I would spend lots of time roaming the cane fields, mostly enjoying the animals which, like me, called this place home. I visited birds in the woods, snakes in the canals, armadillos amongst the open fields in the mornings.
Thinking back today, I am pretty sure the time spent on that little mini bike was my escape from the chaos. What I remember most about riding the cane fields was the freedom I had. It was peaceful. There was no one to yell, no guessing moods, no chaos. Just the wind blowing in my face and the cane stalks watching this little kid enjoy his young life.
I can still feel that freedom!
C'est finis
Ron