During the summer months of 1994 we taught ourselves new games to ease our boredom. We weren’t allowed to go really anywhere, or do anything outside of our house during the summer, unless we did it as a family. No Summer Camp, Basketball Camp (I begged!), etc. I think about it now, and really regret not being able to experience more as a child, but I wasn’t the parent, so all is forgiven. One of our favorite games was playing scientist on the front lawn where the dirt met the grass and ran like streams atop of the clay like dirt. We’d get Popsicle sticks and dig around the dirt and talk to each other like reporters about our findings. We never found anything significant besides an occasional 7-Up bottle cap, and of course even more dirt. We’d play until it was time to come inside for dinner. We’d run in, most of the time, with mud all over our arms and hands. Good times. I loved the creativity of the game; making up stories and problems existing in the mud. What happened to that imaginative little girl?