The long walk home

When your Dad and I first met, he didn't have a car, here's the post about his first car. He could sometimes get a ride out to my house but then he'd have to walk or hitch hike back home. Here's the map of his walk. He was very committed to me when we first met, I don't remember how many times he did this but certainly more than once.

He wasn't the only one

When you think of him walking, he wasn't the only one that put in the effort. When he returned and eventually moved back and lived with his Mom out in Maple Lake. I would drive out to see him and spend time with him. There was a little white house on the corner that had 2 bedrooms and an upstairs attic room. It also had a basement. He lived in the 2nd bedroom, the attic, the basement and out in the camper at different times. I looked up the house on google maps and it doesn't appear to be there anymore.

Anyways...I would go there and then leave at the very last minute to get home. I'm sure I sped to get home. For every minute I was late home, I would have to do two minutes of work. Here's my path.

There was this one time....

I don't know if you caught it...what my consequences were for when I was out past my curfew...for every minute I was late, it was 2 minutes of work.

Well...there was this one time. I was at school at the community college and your Dad and I got into a huge fight and needed lots of time to talk it out. Obviously, I don't remember what it was that we fought over anymore it was so long ago. Needless to say, I was late coming home. This was before cell phones and I think normally I would get home about 1pm but it was probably about 6pm when I finally got home. My mother was angry and upset because she didn't know where I was and so she insisted the rule apply here. I was a bit furious and thought it was horribly unfair because it's not like I was suppose to be home at 1am and got home at 6am (although I did that later). She said that I owed her 10 hours of work. I was so mad and told her that it was not only my fault so I was going to make your Dad help me. Which he did...and our punishment was that we had to paint the bedroom. It was the room that was originally my older sisters room(and later after she went to college, I moved into it).

What we also did was write something like LP + AF with paint strokes on the wall. You could barely see it but we had the last laugh by doing that. I think Grandma probably painted over the wall when she got it ready to sell so you wouldn't be able to see it now but it makes me laugh thinking about it.