By Robin WeaverEight-million congrats to the Genre-ists on our "Eighth Anniversary!!" A special thanks to Judith
and Sarah for inviting me to be a part of this awesome group.
Time really does fly. In honor of our eighth, I'm re-posting one of my previous blogs about when "I was eight (or close enough)." Hope you enjoy.
Near-Death After School Program
I grew up in the middle of nowhere, and since my parents
worked long hours and had a lengthy commute, my non-school time involved very
little supervision. In those days (and it really wasn’t that long ago), leaving
eight- and ten-year-old children alone during the time between school bus
drop-off and arrival of the parents after a day at the factory didn’t
constitute child-neglect. My eight-year-old brother had a more structured
existence. He was supervised by ten-year-old
me. Translation: it’s amazing we survived childhood. 
What could possibly happen in those three hours each day? We
had chores to keep us busy, right?
Here’s what we actually did…
- Had races. On real horses. At full gallop, through the woods.
- Had tin can fights. Did I mention we loaded the cans with rocks because the weight made the throw more accurate?
- Went swimming in the lake. Said-lake had been created from a gravel pit, and thus had a very deep drop-off.
- Went fishing in the beaver pond. Several water moccasins enjoyed the same water.
- Had contests to see who could climb the highest tree. And jump down.
- Played circus knife-thrower. You guessed it—with the kitchen butcher knife.
- Tried to create fire by rubbing stones together. Fortunately for the hundred-acre forest, we never succeeded.
- Had target practice with B-B guns. Enough said.
- Played Zorro. Sword fights involved sticks sharpened with the circus-play butcher knife.
- Tested bed sheets to determine if they could be used as parachutes. Testing involved jumping from the roof. Note: Bed sheets do not make good parachutes.
- Drove the tractor to the neighbor’s house (in first gear the entire trip). Note: The neighbor gave us a lecture but never ratted us out. I don’t think the tractor ever ran the same.
- Made up stories. Probably the only safe thing we did. At least until we turned the stories into live-action plays.
Did my mom know about our activities? Of course not. She
would have killed us.
My childhood didn’t seem like a near-death experience at the
time, but a few years later, I freaked because my five-year-old daughter went roller
skating without a helmet. I guess times really have changed. J
You might also enjoy what happens to thirty-eight & forty-eight year olds who try to date after divorce, loss, and bra fat. Take a peek at The Boy Box.
4 comments:
Robin, this is hilarious - reminds me of the time my brother cut his finger almost off playing "open Sesame" with the garage door (which wasn't so hilarious.) Probably more like the time we tried to catch a water snake at Grandma's but it was water moccasin.
Fun post, Robin! And we were the same. I had a brother older and younger than me and we were left alone not only between after school and when our parents got home but all day during summer vacation. We rode horses on the mountain, swam in the river, I cut myself several times cutting cardboard to make Barbie furniture and we played games that involved weapons. And we lived!
Oh my, this brought back fond, and scary, memories. I grew up at the edge of town and the edge of a vast, or so it seemed, forest. Lots of fun can be had when a tribe of kids roams a forest. And we did actually start a fire, but using a magnifying glass. Luckily a sane adult was nearby and averted catastrophe. Fun times, hehe.
I do envy these stories of country childhood. I grew up in the city (L.A. metro area) but I definitely do remember having more a sense of freedom and that my life was in my own hands feeling. We did run pretty free as kids. I started being the official babysitter of my younger siblings when I was eleven. They feared me much more than my parents. :)
Bad things did happen--not things like nearly burning something down or throwing knives at each other. City kids know not to do that. But I did have a brother fall out of a tree he climbed and break his leg, a sister who got to ride with the police all day to find a man who had been exposing himself to every kid in the area.
Though my siblings and I did learn some difficult lessons about not trusting everyone we encountered, for the most part I lived a fairly naive and optimistic life in spite of being a city girl. The one thing I learned, that has made a difference throughout my life, is that I was capable of dealing with emergencies and scary things and making good decisions to keep everyone as safe as possible. I fear that some of the more coddled children of today don't have the opportunity to learn that lesson because parents, teachers, or some other adult swoop in to stop them or save them from themselves. That makes adulthood very challenging for those children.
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