It was a back lane that was dirt. The houses not too big or too small of all different shapes and colours. Ours was at one end of the lane, small with white stucco. A larger house was across the street and beside us our neighbours tore down the house and built a larger brick house.
Lots of children lived on the street and on the next one behind us. My best friend lived there. The children on the streets all played together, outside on the street, in our yards and in the bush behind our street where the hydro line stretched out. We also had our squabbles with each other but, anger never lasted long, because we needed each other.
When the girls got together, we skipped double dutch and played hopscotch drawn in the dirt on the road. When boys were included, we rode our bicycles, played hide and seek and cops and robbers or tag. I wasn’t much for road hockey but at times had no choice.
Our dog was never tied up. He followed us wherever we went. He chased and barked at every car that drove by. He fought with every dog that threatened him, even though he was tiny, mostly chihuahua. He loved us.
We made forts in the trees, in the back yard, in the snow or wherever we could. We made roads and drove our toy cars. We made clothes for our barbie dolls. We made our own games with themes and plans. We were all actors in the playhouse. We played until our mothers called for us to come in because it was getting dark.