Cousins

Some of my earliest memories are the times we'd get together with our cousins and play around our Grandparents' yard. That half-acre piece of land seemed like a vast region of opportunity. We could go forage around the veggie garden, throw rotten mushroom puffballs at each other, jam crushed up grapes into the gas tank of the old broken ride-em lawnmower, or hit tennis balls around with golf clubs. We'd swing at the Maple tree, trade pine needles from the Ponderosa pine for wheelbarrow rides, and collect Huckleberries (mostly in our stomachs, some in the ice cream pails) for Grandma to make pies. But there is always one thing I remember most about one of my cousins: the vicious air/gas cycle.

If he or someone else broke wind, he'd laugh. Heck, we'd all laugh. We were between the ages of birth and death which, for most guys, means that they find such things highly amusing. With this cousin though, it would create a form of perpetual humour.

The more he laughed; the more he'd fart. Once started he would go on and on and on.

Perhaps it is all of these early breathing exercises that formed a strong core foundation on his journey to become a yoga instructor. I'd like to think so at least ;)


Why this recollection of cousins? Well one of them visited Grandpa and I this past week with his fiancée. We had lots of fun hiking about the coast (I took the photo above in Skookumchuck Provincial Park up near Egmont BC) and reminiscing about old times.

And I was there for his first driving lesson...