THE TARZAN ADVENTURE
With seven children to feed, I usually shopped at a grocery warehouse where I could buy in bulk. I would load up my 9-passenger Chevy wagon with the smaller kids and leave the older more "responsible" teens home. The drive to Colville is beautiful and about half way there is a turn out for Crystal Falls. We would stop there and enjoy the roar of the mountain water as it thundered in to a small gorge. Piling back into the car, we'd take a head count and continue our drive to town. Shopping in Colville meant not only stopping at the grocery warehouse, but a trip to the local Goodwill Thrift Store. We might be buying second hand, but we looked for "lightly used" clothing and household items. You'd have thought we had hit sale day at the Bon, or Macy's, when we found the "perfect" item. Shopping done, we retraced our route over the hills to our little town of 400, nestled in the mountains along the Pend O'reille River. In no time at all we were pulling into our driveway. Usually met by the older kids running out of the house to see what goodies we might have bought, it seemed odd when no one even opened the door. As we got out of the car I could hear laughter coming from beyond the lawn area behind the house. The laughter turned to Tarzan like yells from time to time, so I laughed to myself while removing groceries from the back of the car to haul in the front door. Finally finished with the groceries, I went out the back door to see what all the laughter and Tarzan yells were about. Dividing the backyard and the garden was a stand of birch trees, and swinging from tree to tree were my sons and one daughter -- laughing and making the Tarzan yells heard earlier. Until that incident, I didn't know how entertained they could be by a stand of birch trees -- and every garden hose we owned.
Susan Stevens
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