Another way-back trip

While looking for a picture of Shoeshine yesterday I came across these photos which made me smile. They were taken in our RI house, so are from either 1986 or '87. Shoeshine probably came up with the idea, since he seems to be in charge.

Here's my rogue's gallery, starting with Ms. M.

Shoeshine

Ameranth

and Sectaurs

For the most part, they played well together. At least at this age. At least that's how I want to remember it. :)

It helps that I apparently had no desire to photograph tantrums or arguments,

(go figure) so our pictures are happy memories.

Wired for music?

This is a fun video I watched this morning illustrating that our brains can easily recognize and produce music.

Annnd, no clever segue to today's way-back memory, which was brought about by yesterday's post. Our new shed has filled the void in our yard left by the demolition of our barn.

Our neighbor gave us this picture of our house, which was taken in the 30's or 40's guessing from the size and style of the photo.

This is what it looked like when we bought it in 1987. I know, it looks terrible, but we fell in love with it (the possibilities, not the reality) when we walked inside.

 

It was a great old post and beam barn, and when the time came, a neighbor helped us pull it down with  his tractor, in exchange for the beams. We reused the tin roof, and all the roof boards, so it lives on in other buildings.

 

Sectaurs and friend. My son is the one with the glowing white skin- the Irish/Swedish genes hit him with a vengeance!  I also see a family photograhic trait showing.

Mother, May I ?

(I'd like to say that is not me, ignoring my mother, but I think I would be lying)

I went to our library's book sale this morning, and spent an hour checking each box on every table. Came home with about 10 books for $3.50, so a fruitful trip. I amused myself by noting how we each reacted to the subtle body language of our neighboring shopper and moved gracefully aside silently when it was time to swap places.

Tilting my bifocals to the right angle to read the titles of the books in boxes under the table, I saw "Umbrella Steps"  and heard the whirr of the way-back machine. I haven't thought of Mother, May I? in years and years.

We played this and Red Light, Green Light often and loudly.  The umbrella steps were always my favorite, though the boys favored giant steps. Crossing your feet and twirling with your arms over your head didn't get you much closer to "Mother", but it was fun.

We played this at home of course, but the clearest memories I have are in my maternal grandparents' front yard, in the long dusk of a summer evening. We would  cook hotdogs on a fire, drink Tru-Aid from tall colored metal cups, and run around and through the 20+ foot diameter lilac grove, playing hide and seek while the grownups may have gone inside to play High-low-jack.  Good times.

Way-back machine #2

My father mentioned raking leaves in one of his recent emails and I thought, I have a picture to go with that. (Hope you don't mind me using you, Pa)
" Just reminiscing about the old days - we'd rake up a big pile of leaves and the kids would play in it for hours! So did we, now and then! No need for Ipods and Blackberries and Game Boys! And much less expensive and simpler, and just plain fun!"

That is an uncle with me in our front yard.  A yard filled with oak trees which provided many, many leaves to rake and play with, and best of all, burn! Yes, the good old days when no one knew about the ozone layer and everyone burned their little piles of leaves on the gravel driveways.  My father was in charge, but we got to push the edge leaves in further and let them catch on fire.  I don't remember ever being in charge of a fire, but maybe the younger kids got to do that later on, when they were the only ones home.

I do remember my brother had the chore of burning the trash out back (another thing everyone we knew did back then) until the day he somehow set the backyard on fire. Not a big fire, just a little more than he could quickly douse before being noticed.  

I miss the smell of burning leaves in the fall- the crisp days and bright colors just don't seem complete without that sweet aroma. We do have the smell of woodsmoke in the air since several neighbors heat with wood, and that's nice, but it's not the same.

She wanted to do it, honest!

Sorting through some family photos this week, I came across some from the way-back machine.  I was five when these were taken, fifty years ago. Wow, that sounds old when it's written down. It doesn't feel like that long ago. Anyway.

We often dug holes and played with water, but it was supposed to be out in the backyard, over where the sandy soil was. Not at the edge of the driveway where the hose was handy. I do have a vague memory of this, and the most important part is that we (my brother, #2, and I) were happily digging our mud pit, when #4 asked to go in it.

 Nevermind that she was about 18 months old, she was always a clever little thing and knew what she wanted. What were we to do?

My mother thinks we should have said no.