Remembering the Days of Summer
I recently "celebrated" yet another birthday, and while pondering the question of where all the years went, I began to think back on the days of my youth.Thoughts of yellowed memories on 8mm film come to mind, choppy images of us running around in the side yard playing whiffle ball just led to more memories, like one to the next, in a chain of memories that lead to my past.
I remember spending day after day out there, with my brothers and our friends, just playing for hours, whether it was whiffle ball, baseball, water fights, riding bike or just walking down the "bumpy" gravel road to spend some time hanging out in our club under the bridge.
It's a shame that kids can't roam like that today. With twisted predators lurking and way too many things to draw kids into questionable pursuits caused by boredom, it seems we have the need to organize our children's activity schedules.
Perhaps that is why organized sports have taken on such importance in the lives of families today. I guess it beats having them lying around, playing video games and snacking on tons of sugar and fatty foods.
I recall that my mom would have vague knowledge of our activities (fortunately, vague enough that she can't tell my kids some of the stupid things we did), but we had the freedom to roam about, riding our bikes on sparsely-traveled country roads. But even the back roads around what we call home now possess a dangerous blend of buggies and cars, all driven by people who seem to really be in a hurry. The pace of life has changed.
Just like the milkman who used to stop weekly at our house, the "lazy days" of summer have gone the way of the 70s.
Speaking of our milkman, Dean Dummermuth was a representative of the Goshen Dairy (also a casualty of time). He always said hi as we sped around our makeshift whiffle ball diamond and its dirt bases worn into the grass yard. After he saw fit to call us girls for the way we played, we thought it was only fair that we dub him with the moniker "Woman." The funny thing is, that's what we referred to him as from that point forward.
Our best "Woman" memory was when on one sultry day he stopped in. He challenged us that we could pick one of us to swing at one pitch to hit a home run over the fence for a free box of Popsicles. We picked our neighbor, Bob, of course, because he was the closest thing we had to A-Rod at the time.
Well, even as Woman declared there was no way it was going to happen, Bob proceeded to hammer the first pitch he saw for a homer. Thus, Woman's fate was sealed as well as establishing Bob's place in whiffle ball lore.
What a memory! What a time… and just where did that time go?
For more ideas on backyard activities for families, look for my article in the upcoming summer edition of Around the House. There's loads of things you can do in the comfort of your own back yard, and you don't have to spend a lot of money to enjoy your time together! -- John