Reminiscing- Part Two

Well, I'm returning to take a little bit of time to reminisce about my favorite childhood memories.  In my last post, I mentioned how we used to jump in the hay, play outside in the rain, and make war paint out of mulberries.  I promise, I won't hype on this diatribe much longer, but allow me this post. 

Growing up on a property of five acres was nice.  We would play hide-and-seek so much in the summer evenings.  Our outside rules were always that nobody could hide in buildings, trees or cars.  Eventually, we also had to create the rule that our property line couldn't be crossed (because a few times, some of my siblings ventured off the property and won the game).

I mostly remember always being horrible at choosing good hiding spots.  I usually hid in typical spots close enough to the home base: the wood pile, the log fence near the cow trough.  Home base was always our  glider swing, which sat outside the side door of our house, under the old pine tree.

There was ONE time I remember more clearly though.  That was because it was the one and only time I won hide-and-seek.  When "it" (Sarah was "it", as I recall) started counting to 100, I ran down toward the old apple orchard, looking for another typical place to hide.  I happened to notice our goose pen though.  This pen was made of metal fencing, and the structure was made of skid wood.  The last goose had recently died or been sold, so this pen was vacant.  There was a child's plastic pool still in this fenced area full of dirty, green water.  This pool used to be the goose's fake "pond". 

Since Sarah was getting close to 100, I quickly dumped out the disgusting, filthy water, and hunched down on the ground, pulling this pool over me just as Sarah shouted "100, READY OR NOT, HERE I COME!"

It was torture, hiding in that putrid pool for what felt like hours.  But I grew excited as I listened and heard my siblings running past several different times.  After a long time, I heard those amazing words "Okay Virginia, I give up!!!"

My first and only time, winning at Hide-and-seek.

 Some evenings, my dad would join in on the fun too.  It was always a little more fun when daddy played with us.  The rules changed.  We would play INDOOR, and only in the late evening, when it was dark outside. 
The best rule was that all lights must remain turned off, except for in the family room, which was where home base was.  It was a good thing that my mother loved using electric candles and had one at nearly every window, especially on the front of the house. 

Hide-and seek in the dark is 100 times more frightening as a child.  Again, I never hid in good spots because I was scared of the dark, so I would always hide in either the kitchen or living room- the closest rooms to home base.  Some of my siblings and daddy would find some amazingly creative spots.  One time, they even hid in the small crawl space under one of our bathrooms. 

Last year, Dan and I babysat four of our nieces and nephews for two days.  One evening, I suggested we try this, hide-and-seek in the dark at our house in Baltimore.  It was a real hit.  Dan went all out and hid under a pile of paint clothes in the basement. 


My second memory is that of Oregon Trail.  In our family homeschool, we were all required to read stories of pioneers and Indians and the Oregon Trail.  We would often re-enact the Oregon Trail when we were quite young. 

 

Our "conestoga wagons" were actually red wagons.  One year for our birthdays, Lydia and I got red wagons with nice, wooden removable gates like this one. 

 

We also had a smaller, metal wagon that we used.  I always felt a little bit bad for my older sisters, since they always had to be the ones pulling the wagons.  But it usually went that Katie would pull Lydia in her wagon in the front, Sarah would pull me in my wagon next, and then Martha would pull Oliver last.  Katie and Sarah always created amazing scenarios and obstacles for us to face.  Landslides, steep mountains, we even forded the river once.  We would usually bring along blankets to bundle up in. 

 

This particular game was amazing.  I'm fascinated when I look back on it, at how creative and imaginative (and also historically knowledgeable) my sisters were! 

 

Small things like this probably helped to instill in us a deep appreciation for history. 

 

I find that today, this imaginative, re-creation and re-enacting of historical events is missing.  Someday, I want my children to think outside of the box as well.  I want for my children to imagine how things were and how they will be, not to be shown (via movies and media) what to think or what they can aspire to be. 

 

 

Reminiscing-- Part One

     I never thought that I would reach a day when I'd look back to when I was 8 years old, and feel a deep reminiscing come over me. 

However, lately I have been reminiscing about my childhood favorite activities SO MUCH. 

 

   As a child, I was a follower.  I rarely came up with games to play on my own.  I followed my siblings' ideas and plans.  And with four sisters and one brother to play with (my older brother was already involved in politics and debate teams when I was around this age, so he didn't play with us much), I had a great group of creative comrades.   

 

     Our barn was a decent size, with a large hay room, and loft as well as the pens and stalls inside.

I don't have a picture of the barn, but the loft looked something like this, with beams of different heights.

 

 

 

 

      In the late summer, my parents would purchase a lot of big, round hay bales.  I never actually counted them, but it filled up the whole room, and the bales went quite close to the ceiling.  From the very day that the hay arrived, Katie, Sarah, Martha, Lydia, Oliver and myself would spend all evening in the barn, playing in the hay.  I never kept track of time...but many days, we would all go outside after we were all finished with school, chores and piano practice, and we wouldn't come inside again until it was well after dark. 

 

     Each hay season, we would put on an original  "musical" or "play" written by Katie and Sarah.  These usually included many fancy somersaults and jumps, choreographed original songs, and a plot.  At least two of these plays I was privileged to play the part of a wicked person, or some such devious character.  I remember this because as we held auditions once in the hay loft, though I wasn't very talented as a solo singer (like Lydia), or brave enough to climb the highest beams (like Sarah), I had an ability to use my diaphragm and force out a truly evil-sounding laugh (or cackle). 

 

Call it a co-incidence, but none of us are allergic to hay that I know of to this day. 

 

 

     The property I grew up on was located at the bottom of a hill, right beside a cemetery.  Often, when it would rain for a length of time, the water would run down both sides of the road in the gutters and dump right into our cow pasture, past the barn.  Between the pasture and the cemetery was a large drain and a sort of little creek. 

 

     I always got so excited when I would go to bed and it was raining heavily.  I would wake up, hoping that it was still raining.  If it was, I would hope that it would continue until after we were all finished with school and free to play. 

After school, chores and piano, we would all pull our rain boots on. 

     As I recall, we would play outside until we were soaked.  I don't remember a single time going to the creek and the drain, but I know that Sarah, Martha and Katie did.  I don't know if mommy had a rule about the younger children not being near the creek or whether I was just too scared to go near it.  But I mostly just remember the feeling of walking in sludge, mud, and even cow manure, and sometimes having your boot get stuck. 

 

     It was never a guarantee that your boot was without holes too.  Why was that so much fun?  I don't know...but it clearly impacted me a lot.  I'm still thinking about it. 

 

 

The last reminiscent activity I'll mention in this post can be explained in just this one picture. 



 

 

    In the cow pasture, near the road, we had a wild mulberry tree.  I ate so many mulberries each spring and early summer...

 

    But many times, we wouldn't eat the mulberries, but would use them as war-paint for our faces.  I can only imagine what our neighbors thought when they saw six children running around our property with faces completely painted with mulberry juice, in different designs.  We stopped eating them after so long in the mulberry season because we discovered that the berries carried tiny white worms.

 

     Bear with me as I reminisce about my favorite childhood activities.  When I ask many children today what their favorite things to do are, it is rare that the things they list are creative, healthy OR imaginative. 

 

     I think that could be part of the reason why I enjoy reminiscing about my own childhood.  It wasn't perfect, and times weren't always rosy and exciting, but I'm grateful to have these amazing, fond memories. 

 

What did you do for fun as a child?  Think about it sometime...