Lurking in some corner of our minds are memories of seemingly endless, glorious days between school’s end and school’s start. Let’s dig some out and share them. I’ll start.
One of our favorite activities was building tents. The best were on days when Mom didn’t hang out laundry - we could use the clotheslines and actually stand up in our tents. But those days were few and far between (5 kids make LOTS of dirty clothes…) So other alternatives were a corner of the back porch, using 2 of the railings to attach sides of the “roof”, then arranging chairs to form the rest of the support structure. Or a more or less freestanding tent draped over benches/chairs on the lawn, with a pole holding up the center.
The stinkiest was when we decided to make a “Spook House” in the alley. My dad had some heavy, and odoriferous, canvas tarps from when he was in the Marines, and since they made for a dark tent, they were perfect on a sunny afternoon to create terror. Of course, the grand plan was to charge the neighborhood kids for admission, but that part of the plan failed miserably. Alas!
OK, and from the last MMP:
I used a 9X13 lasagna pan and reduced the bake time to 40-45 minutes. It worked! Of course, then the nuts and cinnamon wound up on top - no biggie.
Good Mornin’ Y’all! Up and caffeinatin’. YAWN ‘Tis 74 Amurrkin out and cloudy with a predicted high of 95 and mostly N.O.S. for the day. No biggie plans for the day so sloth and general overall uselessness it shall be! Sup shall be beast stroganoff, sallit, and rolls. I got a gnawin’ and a cravin’ for stroganoff.
We would take off in the mornin’ and be gone most of the day durin’ Summer. Ye Olde Home Towne was a small place, so we could wander all over. We’d go to the liberry for Summer readin’ club, which was a big thing to do. We’d go to the community pool which was probably a good eighty percent pee. We’d go to the local teen/kid community center. There was a big open field behind my childhood home which was ideal for playin’ so we spent a lot of time there. I am a Summer baby, so on my bday I’d get to run amuck like the wild little heathen I was and then get presents, ice cream, and cake! Imagine my chagrin when I learned that in the grown up world I had to actually irk on my bday! The very idea!
Now I need more caffeine and to feed rumbly tummy. Then, onward into the day! Rah.
Happy Moanday Y’all!
ETA: Nellie I did indeed haul the biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiig trash can all the way down the road last night for pickup today.
We lived literally on the edge of town, near the top of small hill. Everywhere around us, there were other hills topped by dark green conifers, except to the north where the centre was visible in the distance. Dazzling sunlight, insect sounds, distant cries of other children, scents of grass and flowers, the faint buzz of a lawnmower… Yet, a feeling of eternal stillness, as if nothing would ever happen and the afternoon would never end.
Our greatest fear was kicking the ball over the wall into the neighbour’s garden, as it meant no more football.
Our greatest joy was hearing the dull thud of the ball landing on our lawn after the neighbour had thrown it back over the wall, hours, or days later.
Memories of the Daniels’ family - if a ball went into their yard, it was lost, unless they weren’t home - then we could go in and get it. I don’t know why they were so mean about that! It’s not like we were targeting their yard - balls go astray, right? No matter - not to the Daniels. Maybe they were ball hoarders?
There were chainlink fences dividing all the yards in our neighborhood, and my mother told us in no uncertain terms that we were were not to climb over the fences ever at all. But she couldn’t see from our porch to the Biskers’ fence, so I shouldn’t have to worry, right?
Except that my shorts got caught and ripped… but at the grand age of 7 or so, I knew how Mom’s sewing machine worked and I knew where she kept the box of fabric squares to mend our clothes - you see where this is going? Yes, I patched my pink shorts with a pink patch… using the dark green thread that was in the machine. Amazingly, I wasn’t grounded for that. Buy neither did I climb fences after that.
Afternoon, mumpers! It’s currently 17c/62f with a predicted high of 19c/67f and mostly cloudy. Weather app says “It’s fucking days like today that make lingering hugs better. Let’s all fucking hug it out.” Sounds good to me!
Summer holidays were always a great time for us kids, we’d go out on our bikes all day and probably go to all the places we weren’t really meant to. Just at the top end of the road where I grew up, there was a big playing field that belonged to the school I went to, so we often used that for general running around. Behind that was a big bit of land that used to have prefabs on it, they were long gone but it was always called ‘the prefabs’. It went uphill quite a way, and at the top was a kid’s playground so we often cycled all the way up there and spent our time messing around on the swings and slides.
Mum used to organise days out for us, there were summer library clubs to go to, other activities to get involved with, and when the new swimming pool opened near us, that was another thing to add to the list. Generally she was happy for us to be out of the house as much as possible!
There was a place where the wall stopped and was replaced by a tall wire fence. That’s where we used to climb into their garden because that spot was not visible from either my parents, not their houses. However the wire fence would bend spectacularly under our weights and we were always afraid it’d buckle and snap at some point.
There was always something to do. In the years before shopping malls all of the stores were downtown. My neighborhood was a short walk from there and we spent a lot of time just wandering through the stores. When we had money, we would go to the pool and swim. For some reason, poker was a favorite game. We played for bottle caps at first but I scraped up enough money running errands and mowing lawns to buy a few boxes of poker chips.
When I was about ten years old construction started on I-80 and it came right through our neighborhood. suddenly there were miles of empty houses just waiting to be torn down. I am sure you can just imagine what that was like for a group of inner city kids.
It’s 62F, cloudy, and dark outside. As the day progresses, it’ll become partly cloudy, and the high will be around 77F. I’m good with that.
After onerous chores such as weeding in and among the juniper bushes in most of the gardens, summertime included building forts, riding bikes to little lakes to fish, hanging out in the fields behind our homes, riding our bikes for miles and miles, swimming when my mother would take us all to American Lake on Fort Lewis, numerous sleepovers with the neighbor kids during which we’d sleep outside because it was hot and fun to look up at the stars and talk, camping trips, and finally summer camp. I remember the smell of the junipers, freshly cut grass, fresh sheets from the line, my mother’s sun tan oil, warm pitch from the fir trees, and salt air from visits to the coast.
I’m working from home today because I’m going to the office tomorrow. I was sorely tempted to take a mental health day, but vacation is now less than two weeks away, so I’m sucking it up and being responsible. Besides, I have something like three meetings to get through today, probably more, since people like to schedule meetings via schedule planner when I’m not around.
I need another cup of coffee and get the last of the dishes in the dishwasher. I hope everybody has a most pleasant summer day.
I finished the month six blocks last night
Each month we get enough fabric to complete the assigned blocks. I can’t say enough about how luscious the fabric is. Banyan Batiks
There is, however, no provision for the back piece. At our regular fabric store I found a “wide back” bolt (108 inches wide) of the same fabric with a similar pattern and bought three yards. This gives me enough for the back to be one piece:
I got done with this segment early and my next block won’t be ready for four weeks. I have a second project I bought as a kit and plan on starting it this week.
Morning all. Summers for me sorta depended on where I lived. When very young I was in a small house in a small town and baseball with the neighbors and just running around the neighborhood were excitement enough. In N. Indiana for a couple years, we had an empty lot next to us (don’t know why there wasn’t a house there) that kept us occupied for most of the time. Back to N. Ohio for most of my teenage years and summer was mostly for swimming, bicycling, and baseball. Of course, now being a retired gentleman of leisure, everyday is Summer…
Oh, almost forgot, during most of that time our uncle, who was unmarried, would take Brother and I on vacation with him during the summer. Got to see a lot of the country between 12-18 on those trips. Also had family vacations, but they tended to be shorter, we weren’t hurting but didn’t have a lot of extra cash for travel.
Only a few things to attend to today. Travel to Myrtle Beach and Charleston will be Wednesday, so need to come up with a packing list so I can decide what I will forget to pack this time.
hippie, that is quite nice.
FCM, can’t remember many fences when I was real young, there were some in my teenage years, but they didn’t become really popular until I moved to N. Ali-bama, where if you don’t have a 6-ft wood fence you are some kind of alien… And I always tossed the balls back to my neighbors kids when I found them.
Ah, childhood summers, running through the sprinklers, playing Americans and Nazis with my brothers (we were all Americans), eating so much rhubarb then that I still don’t like it now. Trying to get money from mom for the ice cream truck and always, always failing.
Our family was lucky in that we had a cabin that was actually relatively close to town so we could just go for the day once my brothers got paper routes. We were part-fish, in and out of the water constantly once it had been declared okay that we go in. Mornings were for house and yard work, afternoons for swimming out to the raft, using the rope jump, and eventually water skiiing. Hamburgers on the grill tasted better there than at home. On rainy days, we had board games to play and old magazines to read. We could listen to the Twins game on the radio. No phones. No TVs. A good life.
Yesterday was laundry and trying to remove the stink from older Birkenstocks. I didn’t have much energy for more. Today, I’ll find out if I was successful with the sandals. I hope so, Birkies aren’t cheap. It’s been confirmed that the utilities at my new place are now in my name. I found it interesting that they are all handled by the big, evil Xcel. Despite the fact that the county has it’s own electric co-op, and a different company handles gas locally. Xcel has set themselves up as a third-party provider so the management company only deals with them and they deal with gas, electric, water, and trash. Middleman is where the money is.
Hippy, that’s some beautiful fabric in your blocks. I like the backing too.
FCM, our big fence to climb was the one surrounding the country club golf course, which had the only hills worth sledding on. So it wasn’t summer that I worried about ripping my clothing but winter. Heaven forbid I rip my snow pants. So naturally, I ripped my snow pants.
Of to irk, I go. It’s looking to be a nice day. I hope the boss is in a good mood to start the week.
My first cup of coffee since the surgery! Mmmmmmm.
When I was a preteen kid in the 50s/60s, it was all about forts. We would roam the 'hood looking for discarded items that would make valuable additions to the fort that was taking over my friend’s back yard. Then we’d just sit in it and talk kid stuff.
Also, endless games of good guys/bad guys, shooting up the 'hood with cap guns, seeing who was fastest on the draw and acting out scenarios and characters involving our favorite Western sagas, like Lone Ranger, Gene Autry, Roy Rogers and the like. I was addicted to TV westerns. Of course, running around with toy guns is a bad idea these days, but back then it was a normal childhood.
I compare that to how some of my own grandchildren are growing up, being limited in what they do and having a helicopter parent on them constantly. I honestly cannot remember a time when two of my grands were simply told to “go outside and play”, and they live in a small town. Neither of them has ever owned a bicycle, which is just tragic to me.
7:40am, and it’s already 76F (24C), humidity 46% (feels worse than that, IMO), clouds are currently burning off. Projected high today 102F (39C). Do. Not. Want.
Two phone interviews today, so of course Buddy was a complete pain in the tail about yelling at the bedroom door half the damn night. DH was still up, Buddy seems not to cope well with Dad being up while Mom’s down.
I love all these stories! My neighborhood was packed with kids, so there was always someone to play with. We were all free to roam anywhere within our nine-block neighborhood. If you didn’t hear your mom calling, some kid would tell another kid, who’d tell you. If you had 7¢, you could go to the little mom-and-pop store and get a popsicle. You could tell what flavors were in that week by the drops on the pavement, though one time my sister and her friends lowered me by the ankles into the chest freezer to explore the boxes at the bottom. You had to have a friend or sibling to share the popsicle with, which meant running home so a mom could smack the popsicle on the edge of the kitchen counter to break it into two perfect halves. All moms could do this, and they never failed.
On hot days, we’d run through sprinklers or walk the mile to our local pool, which was above ground, so you had to climb stairs from the locker room to get to it. Or we’d go to The Prairie to play in the tall grass and weeds. (As Chicago Dopers can attest, any grassy vacant lot was called The Prairie.) Or we’d play Red Light, Green Light; Mother May I; Red Rover, or Statue Maker on the front lawn.
I could go on, but you have similar memories. Time to shut up and read.
Summers? Capguns(and later BB guns), acorn fights, basketball, and napalm. And gin.
Another chaotic day. If TPTB think they can keep this joint running with just management if there is a strike, they are deluded. At least I got my shower in before thy cut the water off.
Summers up until we moved after 6th grade we had free run of the whole neighborhood. Street touch football (two hand touch, below the waist, 5 mississippi delay before rushing the QB), playing in the creek that ran along the side of our property, building dams and catching frogs, cutting paths through the cat-briars in the back forest. Exploring the construction sites of new houses being built.
Hi all!
Since today happens to be my 60th birthday, it seems an apt time to reminisce about my childhood days.
As (mostly) free-range kids in a quiet suburb with lots of kids, my brothers and I had a blast all summer long. We’d have hide-and-seek games covering multiple square blocks, and something we called “Ghost in the Graveyard,” which was kind of a reverse hide-and-seek with everyone going after one person. Lots of other games I don’t recall, most of which we probably just made up.
Our house was the last one on a dead-end street and therefore had an oversized side yard, which became the perfect wiffle ball and football field. It was fun being the house where all the neighborhood kids came to play. There was also the school playground with its huge adjacent field within a half mile. Boredom was never a problem.
As for my life right now, I’m doing OK. My new job has turned out to be less active than I had hoped. After my first assignment in May, which went well, I’ve had nothing. I’m supposed to go for my second trip next week, but they haven’t given me the details yet. They promise business will be picking up for the rest of the summer and into the fall. We’ll see; such is the life of an independent contractor, I guess. Meanwhile I’ve been trying to find other income streams, to no avail so far. Fortunately, Mrs W is still doing a fine job of winning the bread, but her patience is running short, and I don’t blame her.
Today’s predicted high temperature here in lovely Henderson is 115°, and that’s not even the hottest day of the week. Thank the gods for air conditioning!
but at the grand age of 7 or so, I knew how Mom’s sewing machine worked and I knew where she kept the box of fabric squares to mend our clothes - you see where this is going? Yes, I patched my pink shorts with a pink patch… using the dark green thread that was in the machine. Amazingly, I wasn’t grounded for that. Buy neither did I climb fences after that.
