I saw my human write this. Thought I'd share her thoughts today. I am just laying around soaking up the sun so I used her words today.Traveling through the world of fb I encountered posts about outdoor play. SNAP - memory lane opened up! (Many of you may not know, but seizures in my late teen years robbed me of lots of my early memories, once in awhile I get a peek into the past.)
My aunt Dorothy, took care of me while mom worked and dad was in the service. She had a big, beautiful, backyard that ended where a church parking lot started. One side of the yard ended by a large, city park and the other next to very close friends and neighbors. I was often alone, though watched through the window, in that backyard. (Yes, times were different and we were not so afraid of what could happen.)
The trees at the end of the yard were my house. A few old pots and
pans, my aunt no longer needed were my dishes. No pink, plastic, play
kitchens for me. I would cook all morning long. At noon I was called in
for spaghetti-Os and chocolate milk. (My favorite meal.)
I remember feeling like the house was miles away. It seemed so tall, and the hill seemed so steep. I wonder what it would look like and feel like now, as an adult?
After lunch it was nap time. Often outside, under the shade of the lilac bushes in the front yard. Sometimes in the screened in porch my uncle Will sat in, to watch Little league games in the evening and on Saturdays. (You see on Sundays nothing was open, except church.)
I miss my Aunt Dot & Uncle Will. I have not been to their house in over 20 some years. We drive by on 35W S often but it is hidden behind sound barriers, no longer visible from the freeway. Though curious, I want to remember the little cream or green colored home tucked behind the lilac hedge just as my faulty memories remember it: full of love for me.
I remember feeling like the house was miles away. It seemed so tall, and the hill seemed so steep. I wonder what it would look like and feel like now, as an adult?
After lunch it was nap time. Often outside, under the shade of the lilac bushes in the front yard. Sometimes in the screened in porch my uncle Will sat in, to watch Little league games in the evening and on Saturdays. (You see on Sundays nothing was open, except church.)
I miss my Aunt Dot & Uncle Will. I have not been to their house in over 20 some years. We drive by on 35W S often but it is hidden behind sound barriers, no longer visible from the freeway. Though curious, I want to remember the little cream or green colored home tucked behind the lilac hedge just as my faulty memories remember it: full of love for me.
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