Resourceful
Hmmm? Games we played as kids. Well, we didn't have much in the way of store bought games, so we had to invent and be creative. Do I hear a murmur of "danger"? You'd be right to think it involved many things that should have had an adult nearby screaming in sheer panic. LOL Ah the wonders of those innocent days.
Small towns and farms are invaluable for learning about those most important lessons, and ways to evade the inherent dangers associated with many of the activities that seemed like such fun.
A few of the things I remember us doing, (I was never alone, however, I was not the youngest); running in a farmyard that was not clean (dairy) and then walking around the inside edge of the slurry pit, (manmade sinking mud[think cattle]), and then having to beware of rats that lived under the hay bales we slid down. We never thought of it as being a tad dangerous.
We walked and bicycled miles with picnics getting home around dinnertime, no adults, and those at home did not drive, no phones, just a carefree way of living, but again, no thought to safety and the ways in which we should be worried. Maybe the tales and memories will improve our taste for safety and a sense of parental watchfulness?
How about wandering the fields, eating the mushrooms we gathered (again think dairy farm), and in summertime picking berries, but eating more than we saved. Pesticides were definitely not an issue. . . But, an old lady who owned a large place with a crab apple tree could be quite scary. As her apples fell each year, she would gather them and leave them in a box. Fisrst come, could take what they wanted. When the box was empty, hmmm, just snag a few of the tree and hope to get out before you were caught. I never knew anyone to get caught, I did get yelled at once. The apples were deliciously sour and made your mouth pucker and zing, it was worth it.
See, it does get safer. . . I think.
When at home, we had several things to do for enjoyment. We would play what you call "Chicken", in the road, summer was best as nights were bright way past bedtime, obviously we won. LOL
On summer days it was great fun to pack a picnic and wander down a lane, only about 10 minutes from home, and then hop a fence, had some rusty barbed wire, but that was hardly likely to stop a bunch of kids intent on reaching the other side where a slab of concrete waited. There's more. At the edge was a three foot drop down to a stream where we could splash and scream with no interruptions. You guessed it, no adults. LOL
There was a bigger part of the river to the stream further up. It used to have a brick bridge that had crumbled around the time of WWII and the debris was scattered within the confines of the banks. My illustrious cousins, siblings, and myself gathered the debris and built a dam. I learned to swim in the small area, Then one day it got cleaned up and we could only paddle.
The river was called "The Avon. It widened out much further in the middle of town. I never dove off the bridge, but we did paddle out too far and had to run/swim quick away from the swans. SURPRISE! I had a parent around that day.
Then of course we had fun jumping downstairs. Step up one and jump, up two, jump. You get the picture. This was no easy feat when you to step 4-5. Then there was a ledge that jutted out and as you jumped, you had to duck. The forehead is quite capable of handling a solid brick bump occasionally. . .
Our safest game, I swear it was safe, was to pull mattresses off the beds and slide down the stairs on them.
How we kids survived is a mystery. A bigger mystery is how our parents survived.
So buy your kids what they want, or they will do anything possible to endanger their lives and ultimately yours. . . LOL
Small towns and farms are invaluable for learning about those most important lessons, and ways to evade the inherent dangers associated with many of the activities that seemed like such fun.
A few of the things I remember us doing, (I was never alone, however, I was not the youngest); running in a farmyard that was not clean (dairy) and then walking around the inside edge of the slurry pit, (manmade sinking mud[think cattle]), and then having to beware of rats that lived under the hay bales we slid down. We never thought of it as being a tad dangerous.
We walked and bicycled miles with picnics getting home around dinnertime, no adults, and those at home did not drive, no phones, just a carefree way of living, but again, no thought to safety and the ways in which we should be worried. Maybe the tales and memories will improve our taste for safety and a sense of parental watchfulness?
How about wandering the fields, eating the mushrooms we gathered (again think dairy farm), and in summertime picking berries, but eating more than we saved. Pesticides were definitely not an issue. . . But, an old lady who owned a large place with a crab apple tree could be quite scary. As her apples fell each year, she would gather them and leave them in a box. Fisrst come, could take what they wanted. When the box was empty, hmmm, just snag a few of the tree and hope to get out before you were caught. I never knew anyone to get caught, I did get yelled at once. The apples were deliciously sour and made your mouth pucker and zing, it was worth it.
See, it does get safer. . . I think.
When at home, we had several things to do for enjoyment. We would play what you call "Chicken", in the road, summer was best as nights were bright way past bedtime, obviously we won. LOL
On summer days it was great fun to pack a picnic and wander down a lane, only about 10 minutes from home, and then hop a fence, had some rusty barbed wire, but that was hardly likely to stop a bunch of kids intent on reaching the other side where a slab of concrete waited. There's more. At the edge was a three foot drop down to a stream where we could splash and scream with no interruptions. You guessed it, no adults. LOL
There was a bigger part of the river to the stream further up. It used to have a brick bridge that had crumbled around the time of WWII and the debris was scattered within the confines of the banks. My illustrious cousins, siblings, and myself gathered the debris and built a dam. I learned to swim in the small area, Then one day it got cleaned up and we could only paddle.
The river was called "The Avon. It widened out much further in the middle of town. I never dove off the bridge, but we did paddle out too far and had to run/swim quick away from the swans. SURPRISE! I had a parent around that day.
Then of course we had fun jumping downstairs. Step up one and jump, up two, jump. You get the picture. This was no easy feat when you to step 4-5. Then there was a ledge that jutted out and as you jumped, you had to duck. The forehead is quite capable of handling a solid brick bump occasionally. . .
Our safest game, I swear it was safe, was to pull mattresses off the beds and slide down the stairs on them.
How we kids survived is a mystery. A bigger mystery is how our parents survived.
So buy your kids what they want, or they will do anything possible to endanger their lives and ultimately yours. . . LOL
posted by Diana Chartier at
6:11 PM
4 Comments:
Yes, I remember childhood play that now would never be allowed: riding dirtbikes without any kind of safety gear, BB gun wars (yep, really, shooting at each other with BB guns), jumping off Grandmother's barn with umbrellas a la Mary Poppins (it never worked). Now, I see a kid without a helmet and forget all about my childhood. Instead, I wonder what his parents are thinking. But part of me also thinks that kids need to learn some things for themselves. I've fallen into pools and touched electrical prongs by mistake. I survived. The urge to protect versus the urge to allow learning--always tough, but I wouldn't trade some of my memories for anything.
By
Donna Sewell, at 6:46 PM
that was it, we learned to survive, and held no one but ourselves accountable No frivolous lawsuits.
By
Diana Chartier, at 6:48 PM
It was good seeing you today, even if it was for just a few minutes outside of Best Buy. So you're starting a new master's program next week in instructional technology, right? Let me know how that goes.
Don't forget you should have help with the newsletter now: Kat McKinney with a poetry section and Shane Wilson with features. I think Adam Hathaway is writing an article for it as well. You already have the book review for the March issue, right?
By
Donna Sewell, at 6:51 PM
I have the review. We need a reliable place to meet up. Some of us only get an hour or so to escape LOL
By
Diana Chartier, at 7:08 PM
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