The neighbourhood

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.



2 thoughts on “The neighbourhood

  1. Childhood neighbourhood
    I often return to my childhood neighbourhood – it is in Sudbury – Minnow Lake to be exact. When I go, especially if the day is cloudy, I sit on a large outcrop of rock – and I listen and watch … I see us all there, at the end of our street, with it’s bush, and two fireplaces, and creek … it’s railway tracks and the beckoning waves of Ramsey Lake just on the other side…,the frozen marsh water we skated on, the kind ferns that gave their lives to us as we made hideouts deep in the bush … and the warm warm blueberries … the kindnesses of our mothers…the fights, and laughter, the disappointments …
    When I sit there, I am closer to the sky … and to all the kids who played there – I see them in my ‘mind’s eye’-such rich memories – and yet, it is almost as real to me as I sit there, as it was those many many years ago – I SEE the kids, running over the rock, taking a drink of rainwater from it’s small bows and dips – it makes me happy – I am home, I am home, and I know it.

    How fortunate we are, and have been, how very fortunate.

    With loving thoughts,

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