The Window Wells

I was thinking back on my childhood. I was going to do a post on home made gifts I gave in the younger days. I thought about where I used to play and then the memory swept upon me. During the lazy days of summer, we would do our daily chores and then we pretty much just ran the 'hood'. One of my favorite haunts was our school grounds. Then building was ancient and I am sure my grandparents attended that school. It was three very tall stories. It had the coolest fire escape on the west side of the building. There was a large expanse of 'blacktop' with four square, tether ball and hopscotch patterns. Ancient equipment called lovingly to us. We would sail high in the air and yes, we loved to 'bail out'. This was back in the days when they didn't care much about safety (law suits were almost unheard of). The swings were heavy and tall with 'pinchy' chains and a strap seat.
     There were rows of tetter totters, (funny, I can't remember how to spell those). We would pile many children on them and at least one person usually rode the middle.....standing and balancing. For some reason they thought we would like playing inside a large cement pipe. Try playing inside someone's cement pipe. I'll bet you get yelled at. We would climb on those and sit in the cool shade at time. It always smelled bad to me however. I won't say what it reminded me of, but ...I will never get in a cement pipe again.
We were treated to outdoor porcelain water fountains. Great for drinking from and even better to spray your friends with. You would put your finger on the spout and push. We were very accurate with our shots. We would hoist each other up and climb the fire escape occasionally. I always worried that some demonic figure of authority would appear and mete out swift justice on us for that so it was seldom that we climbed up to peek in the classroom windows.
   I loved playing in the window wells. On the west side of the school, we could just walk level and the walk way rose until our eyes were level with a passerby's feet. On the east, there was a large retaining wall and about 10 foot wide and seemed like 10 feet deep. although through grown up eyes, I 'm sure it was at most 3 feet deep. I loved rolling in the grass in the 'trench'. You could get a good run and vault out of the trench. But on the north east side of the school. Covered in bushes and deep with fallen leaves were the ultimate window wells. They had bars around them to prevent someone from accidently falling to the depths. These required a bit of planning to explore. You had to climb the bars, straddle the top and climb over. Then we would hang from the bottom and fall into a whole new world. I must not have been afraid of spiders and worms as I am sure they were infested with critters. It felt so mysterious and thrilling to be in these dark pits. we would usually stay for a few minutes. Then the problem of how to ascend would arise. We had to leave a rescuer topside to pull us up to the bars to get out.
   My childhood was filled with inventing my own games and running wild. I am sure I would have remained a thin athletic person...but along came Gilligans Island!

The Black Thing

When I was little, somehow we acquired a tall black cone. I believe it was for the end of some kind of fire extinguisher, but it was just the 'Black Thing' to me. I loved it. I wish I could describe what it was made of,  but the closest my memory and limited resource of description can come up with is a type of molded Masonite rolled together and painted black.
   I have no idea why I liked it so much. Maybe because it was just so weird. No one else had a toy like this. I kept it in my room. It worked as a megaphone for cheerleading, a very uncomfortable chair, something to swing around and my favorite- a fog horn. I used to love foggy days in the winter. I would walk down the street to Stoker School and walk onto the football field until I couldn't see any of the edges of the field. It felt very isolated. I loved the feeling of muffled silence in my ears as I stood in the dimness of the day. The trees stood far away- dark, stiff and mysterious. I would put the 'Black Thing' to my lips and blast a great embouchure. I remember the terrific tickle that buzzed my lips. I usually  had to whip the black Thing down and rub my lips. I loved hearing the blast of sound echoing into the moist gray blanket surrounding me. I still wonder what ever happened to my Black Thing. I think my mom hated having that thing around the house. I probably would if my kids had acquired something that obnoxious. I tried to understand when they had treasures. But I do know that I loved when junky things finally passed to the trash. Is that what happened to my Black Thing?

This is as close as I can get to an image of the Black Thing.....what was I thinking putting my mouth on that?!!

Love Is In The Air

I had a great time making these decos. Thanks to Pinterest for the inspiration.now if they will only stay stuck to the ceiling....I have already had to reattached them!

Throw Back Thursday

I have decided that each Thursday, I will publish a blast from the past. Stories from my life that may or may not be of value to anyone, (Me included.) This might be a fun way to write my history. I may have to use 'Journal in a Jar' Prompts to get my brain going.
   I am going to start the week off with library memories. I remember the dimly lighted library at the old Stoker school. The shelves looked like they were as tall as the entire school. I remember the library bindings on the books and pocket in the back of the book that held a card. We would choose our books and take them to the librarian. She would have me write my name on the card with the date beside it. On a corresponding card in the back of the book, she would stamp the due date of the book. Sometimes the stamp was a large intimidating looking appliance, filled with gears and wheels and a long clang as it stamped the date. Other times the stamp was firmly attached to a pencil in the spot usually reserved for an eraser. I remember how nervous I was that I might not bring the book back by the date inside the back cover. Or worse yet, I might lose or damage the book. I remember one day being quizzed about some pencil markings in one of the books. They had been there when I got the book, but I could tell the librarian thought I had written in the book. I still hate that feeling of guilt to this day.
    Some of my favorite books from my elementary years were: Are You My Mother? Spilled Milk, Make Way for Ducklings, Ellen Tebbits, all the Beezus and Ramona books. I also loved the Boxcar Children and Laura Ingalls Wilder series.
   In the summer, our neighborhood had the joy of the Bookmobile. We loved Wednesdays when the Bookmobile was parked by the church. I remember the high steps that lead into a library on wheels. There was a very friendly man that waited as we made our choices and handed them to him. Our mom always did the check out process and we went home to find a cool place to snuggle up and travel to a far off place and time, made even better if there was a summer thunder storm and some penny candy from the drug store.