I never got to introduce Kim to a children's book series I was writing. I introduced her to the concept and the idea, but I never got around to ever having her proof read it before she died. I finished it a few weeks after she was diagnosed with a brain tumor that would prove to be her ticket home to God. She would ask about the books often, but I pushed it off as never having been completed. Kim had a lot more on her plate with her health than worrying about those books.
A huge part of our friendship was about how very different we were, not just in the present tense, but also our past lives. I'm a city boy, everything city, and as much as Kim loved to shop and eat in big cities, she was a country girl at heart. I was eighteen when I got my drivers license, something that drove Kim nuts. From the time she met me at the age of fourteen she pushed me to get a license to drive so I didn't have to rely on city transits. The only thing Kim understood about me not desiring to drive was that I walked to many places. I would walk two miles to the park to meet up with my friends. Kim was a walker so that opened up conversations about how nice and peaceful to the soul a walk could be. She walked those gravel roads, to the stop sign and back, with her little dogs pretty faithfully.
Kim being a country girl, one that loved Kenny Chesney, married a greater love in her life, Cory the farmer. I got the grossest of the grossest farm stories she could provide me. It seemed she could never get enough of telling me about calves being born and what Cory had to go through to make that all happen. I would always ask her about Cory milking the cows in which she would respond "they are fat cows not damn dairy cows". And I would laugh on my end for annoying her with that while she would laugh on her end annoying me with the gross details of calves being born.
I really did enjoy hearing about her farm life and how much she wished Cory didn't have to work so damn hard all the time. I am pretty sure Kim also enjoyed the stories of this city kid trying to stay out of trouble. I also know she did not enjoy listening to Jake about me breaking curfews and swearing at him anymore than I enjoyed listening to her telling me to quit being a dumbass and be more respectful of Jake raising me like I was his birth son.
I told Kim I felt sorry in a way for kids that never got to live on a farm, or visit a farm long enough to get an idea of a life of gravel roads and manure smells. It was then I decided to try to bring the farm life into the lives of city kids, to little to read but old enough to be wowed by the stories I could relay to them from my friend the farmers wife. The stories would include those told to me by my friend about the life of a kid in a small town that ended up a few miles out on a gravel road married to a farm boy.
Stories about how she used to ride pretend ponies as a little girl, drink on gravel roads with her friends as a teen, married a cute boy who farmed with his family and raise a daughter on a farm while still showing her the life in the city. Stories about long drives to work in snow drifts, how much she hated grocery shopping, how much she enjoyed doing hair from her home.
It all lead up to the birth of Kym Tyme. A little blond farm girl who lived with her mommy and daddy out on a farm where cows roamed, chickens laid eggs and corn and beans were grown. "Not pork-n-beans like you city folks eat." A little blond girl who rode in tractors, played in the mud, and rode ponies. "Not those stick ponies like city kids play with." A little blond girl who wore bib jeans in the fields and cute little dresses to church and whose nearest neighbor was a mile away. "Not like two feet away like you city folks."
I sold the rights to those children's farm tales and look forward to the day when I find them out there in book land fully illustrated. Had I never been introduced to Kim Lindgren, Kym Tyme would never have been created. I can only hope that they make her proud of not only me as the writer, but herself as the story teller of them. Without her and I poking fun at the life of a city boy and a country girl Kym Tyme would have never made an appearance.
Kym Tyme is obviously Kim Lindgren, or at least created from the Kim I got to know in the past ten years. Although her bubble of friends was small, Kim new A LOT of people. Like our Kim, Kym Tyme is a very complex little girl. She loved her farm life and was perfectly content in being alone, or with her family, on that farm. Like our Kim, Kym Tyme loved little trips to the city to eat big food. Kym Tyme loved donuts, Krispy Crème donuts were the bomb! Our Kim's closest Krispy Crème was in Omaha and her and her friend Jewels would day trip there and stock up on donuts and Hooters wings. I used to snap pictures of our Krispy Crème here in Boston, a mere five blocks away.
In hind sight I almost wish I would never have sold my rights to the story of Kym Tyme. I so closely matched Kym Tyme to the life of our Kim. What started out to be a small idea between our Kim and myself turned into a big deal. It was fun gathering the stories from Kim and her life on the farm. Through many laughs and lots of memories she shared with me I find myself wanting more of that. Not that we hadn't spend endless countless hours together already but she was hard to get information about herself from. She wanted to talk about me and the misfit family I have out here in Boston. Every time I would ask her about herself, she would deflect and turn the talk back to my life. Once she knew I wanted to create the Kym Tyme series she was more than happy to share her memories with me. She did it for me, not because she wanted the attention. I can only hope that she now realize how much it meant to me for her to share so much of herself with me.
I guess if there was a moral to this friendship story, it would be to accept others lifestyles and share yours with them. There is a bond as big as ever in a friendship full of differences, the world just needs to embrace them. I am honored that Pooh accepted Piglet as he was when they came into each others lives. I am proud to have been friends with such a wonderful soul. I am forever grateful that Kim shared her family and friends with me. Without them, Kim would be a memory in my mind that my heart would miss alone. Knowing so many who loved Kim just as much I do makes me feel like I did not get deserted when God called her home.
These city raised nieces and nephews of mine love Aunt Kimmy very very much. I used to share stories about farm life with them and enjoyed how excited they were to learn how food is grown by farming families. They love that country folks can live on land that allows them to have all those animals. I taught the misfit littles my version of Old McDonald had a farm. I tried man times to teach it to the as Old McDonald Had a Farm but that just made them want chicken nuggets and cokes from Mickey D's. So I taught them this version. Try not to get this stuck in your head, and for those of you that know Old Man Cory, sing it to him. I'm sure it will bring back memories for him as well, of days gone by when I used to tease the Lindgren's about their dairy cows and tractors.
Old man Cory had a farm, EIEIO
And on that farm he had dairy cows, EIEIO
With a moo moo here and moo moo there,
here a moo there a moo everywhere a moo moo.
Old man Cory had a farm, EIEIO
And on that farm he had some corn, EIEIO
With a corn cob here and a corn cob there,
here a cob there a cob everywhere a corn cob.
Old man Cory had a farm, EIEIO
And on that farm he had some beans, EIEIO,
With a toot toot here and a toot toot there,
here a toot there a toot everywhere a toot toot.
Old man Cory had a farm, EIEIO
And on that farm he had a smell, EIEIO
With a bad smell here and a bad smell there,
here a smell there a smell, everywhere a stinky smell.
Old man Cory had a farm, E I E I O O O O.
