Morning Dawdler 3/19/23 Free range on the Farm

Rory’s questions for today:

Are you a person who likes their life to be orderly with set routines and schedules or is that not an essential for you to worry about?

I’ve always disliked schedules, deadlines, and appointments. There’s too much to be ‘thought about’, ‘investigated’, ‘created’ and “played” every day for that. Probably half of the reason I never liked school was because I felt forced to be there. When I was spending summers at my grandparents’ dairy farm, the adults were busy with chores, while I was busy being a “free range” kid on my own. I was never bored. With the farm dog as my sidekick, I explored fields, ditches and barns. Some of my pastimes were braiding bailing twine into belts, teaching the farm dog tricks, exploring ditches for polliwogs, riding my pony while pretending to be Annie Oakley, and collecting interesting rocks.
Every situation since has felt a little ‘confining’.
When I discovered I could make a supplemental living by inviting kids into my home each day, it was my perfect niche. With kids (at least with my style) every day was a different adventure. Sometimes I’d plan activities, but they were always subject to change. If a backhoe showed up to dig a trench across the street, would you want to sit at the table pasting pictures or watch it? The gang and I always chose the backhoe of course.
As for tidiness, I’m not good at that either. Our helter-skelter day care ways left picking up for days’ end… sometimes the next day. 😉

Are you a natural people watcher and if so what do you enjoy about the experience?

Gosh, yes. People are almost as interesting as polliwogs. Everyone has a story, everyone has a natural born temperament, and everyone is a possible new friend. While growing up, I watched people and evaluated them as ‘good’ or ‘bad’ examples of who I wanted to be. As an adult, I want to know what others think when I can get them to ‘open up’. My everyday dress code is mostly a decorative t-shirt with a flannel overshirt. My t-shirts have words and/or symbols that represent a wide assortment of my favorite things. Those t-shirts frequently elicit a comment and connection when I’m in public. It’s just the opening I need to be comical and friendly. The grocery store never disappoints. It’s a place where I can collect new humous anecdotes or curiosities on human behavior.

Do you think your online persona is very different from the one at home or are you exactly the same as you display yourself to your readers?

I don’t see any difference. I’m genuine to a fault. Even when it means I may ask inappropriate questions or state brutal truths, it’s always me talking… sometimes apologizing. LOL


https://earthlycomforts.uk/2023/03/19/a-wild-aloha-to-you-28/

SoCS- 3/18/23 Missing Joe

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “tape.” Use it as a noun or a verb. Use it any way you like. Enjoy!

If you’re old and wise you still have homemade cassette tapes. Some idiots eventually tried to improve on those perfectly wonderful music deliverers when CDs were considered ‘advancement” and took their place.
I have never had a CD accidentally misplaced under the car floormat work well. Yet my cassette tapes (some stored where they got moldy) are still doing the trick! The homemade ones are the best and collecting songs from the radio made us all production experts with timing the key.
I wanted to add a song that comes to mind augmenting my post and the one that jumped out added to the direction of this stream. It’s posted below and is a special song that encompasses several feelings.
My husband and I grew up (and still live) in the same hometown. Before we met, we each already had a childhood friendship with the same guy named Joe. Once we were married, those friendships continued. Joe eventually had two children. a girl, with the middle name “Sue” and a boy with the middle name (my husband’s) of “Edward”. Joe was the silliest, kindest, soul. He kept us ‘in stitches’ all of the time!
Sadly, Joe was diagnosed with cancer 16 years ago and passed away. We’d each known and loved that goofy ‘character’ for most of our lives…longer than we had even known each other. So, to say the least, we’ve been lonesome for Joe. His birthday happens to be on the first day of Spring- March 20th. My song choice is for him. It’s one that ALWAYS makes me think of Joe.
{wiping a tear} “We miss you Joe!”

[Joe still ‘lives’ every time my husband and I sit by a campfire and laugh about his antics. ❤ ]

Happy Saturday, friends! Treasure your friends.



https://lindaghill.com/2023/03/17/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-march-18-2023/

Ronovan Writes SIJO Wednesday- Contentment-One Splendid Pursuit

There are:

  • Three Lines
  • 14-16 syllables per line
  • A total of 44-46 syllables for the entire poem.


One Splendid Pursuit

A pursuer of splendid new things is the precocious child.
Energy builds strong bones and joyfulness expands the soul.
All a frisky blitz toward the reward of tranquil contentment.



https://ronovanwrites.com/2023/03/15/ronovan-writes-sijo-wednesday-poetry-challenge-53-use-contentment-as-your-inspiration-this-week/

SoCS-3/4/23-My Enchanted Childhood: A Glimpse

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “wild animal.” Choose a wild animal (or many wild animals) and use it any way you’d like in your post. Enjoy!


Oh my! Where to go on a theme of wild animals?
I guess I’ll tell one of many tales of my encounters.
A connection with the Natural World IMHO is the greatest gift you can give a child.

My childhood was an absolutely enchanted one…
We spent family vacations at remote cabins we’re we went fishing, climbed trees, caught frogs, and sat around campfires. My Mom’s family even bundled their funds and bought a cabin by a lake when I was about 10. I would spend almost entire summers there.
Many whole days were all about catching, examining, and releasing, frogs and turtles and exploring. At night, we’d fish on the lake’s glassy surface using our favorite lure called a “jitterbug”. It mimicked the sound and motion of a frog on the water. In that near-silent scene (except for the lullaby of crickets), with the moon turning the water’s ‘smooth glass’ silver, I could hear (sometimes see) the lure lurching across the water.
“Glub, glug, glubbity”, {pause]…then repeat. Sometimes a small fish would take a slap at the lure. BUT the larger bass (lunkers) simply rose to the top making an almost inaudible sucking sound taking the whole lure in its mouth.
Then it was ON!
The pole would jerk as I ‘set the hook’ (pulled back). Larger, heavy, fish would take out line which is called “pulling out drag” and we’d fight as I reeled it in. On the best battles, the fish would leap fully out into the moonlight while shaking its head. That once quiet environment was now filled with splashing and the essence of the Natural World… a fight for survival.
If I had ‘set the hook’ quickly, once I bring the fish to the boat (if it hasn’t won the battle to get away), the hook is only lodged in the stiff corner of its mouth. That’s when the skilled ‘angler’ removes the hook and releases the bass back into the lake to hopefully pursue another day.

My husband and I honeymooned at a lake in Maine. Instead of going to bars or clubs, we sat on a moonlit lake and fished. Later on, we took our kids camping and finally bought 29 acres in the woods. We still spend weekends and vacations there ‘off the grid’ with our kids and grandkids. There’s no lake but plenty of Nature to ‘drinking in’.

I could have told you about the time I raised a baby raccoon, or kept frogs through one winter, or solved the mysteries of wild sounds I have encountered, or made friends with a Ruffed Grouse, but Stream of Consciousness takes its own course… maybe another time.

I could go on and on about the critical NEED for kids to connect to Nature. If the topic interests you, Richard Louv has written two outstanding books, The Nature Principle and Last Child in the Woods: Saving Our Children from Nature-Deficit Disorder.

Happy Saturday everyone!


https://lindaghill.com/2023/03/03/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-march-4-2023/
https://wordpress.com/read/feeds/24840312/posts/4583744269

Unanswered Question: Why did “boredom” have to become a ‘bad’ thing?

What an interesting morning in the ‘blogosphere’ I’ve had. It seems to have produced a treasure trove of thoughts and questions.

My Unanswered Question for today was inspired by one of those exchanges. A subject of great interest to me is the evolution of environments kids grow up in.

I’ve already examined the dynamic changes in the make-up and size of nuclear families. There’s still ‘meat’ on that bone to take up later.
But my unique vantage point afforded by providing childcare for 46 years, has given me a clearer view of the timeline of changes in the realm of ‘being a kid’ than most people would have had.

The most mind-blowing thing I discovered my granddaughter doing recently was observing her watching videos of other children playing. It didn’t seem to be a curious inquiry that might inspire a game that she could play. It was merely a form of entertainment.

Her response when asked (probably a little too judgmentally), “What the heck are you doing?!” was, “I’m just bored.”.

She predictably rolled her eyes at my ‘all too familiar’ response of “Read a book.” before I pulled out some paints and invited her to the table.

Then it hit me. How many of you had parents who answered the “I’m bored.” complaint with a chore or a request for us to “Go outside and play with your friends, then.”?

Kids just can’t go outside on an impulse anymore. And sadly, there aren’t a bunch of other kids nearby either.

We had something they don’t… The opportunity to explore and ‘boredom’ inspired some of our best adventures!

The changes to our children’s and grandchildren’s environment didn’t stop at ‘less safety’ and fewer friends. It came from an attitude adjustment inspired by those things. Exploration had been replaced by entertainment.

I hope those of you still reading this can imagine the tragedy in the last statement. One broadens the mind, and the other broadens the “behind”. One embraces curiosity and creativity, and the other discourages those things.

Too many ‘old folks’ tend to immortalize their childhoods as the BEST, but this ‘old person’ can’t imagine that this ‘kernel’ of change is a ‘good’ thing.

Knowing that kids are learning to require entertainment certainly explains a lot of our current troubles. It comes down to expecting ‘boredom’ to be a ‘bad’ thing AND suggests that a person’s environment has an obligation to offer ‘entertainment’ instead of it coming from within.

My head is banging the table as I consider today’s question.

WHY DID BOREDOM HAVE TO BECOME A ‘BAD’ THING?




My Hometown: Where did you go?

This morning I decided to write from my head and heart. Writing prompts are excellent tools but often can lead us away from telling our own story. I’m going to add a new category to my archives named “Unanswered Questions”. Especially on Sundays, when the demands on my time are fewer, I lie awake in the morning and reminisce. I find I have so many questions that are unanswered. Most are unanswerable. The people, places, and certainly, the atmosphere of my past, have changed… many are gone. I’ve changed too, of course. Change isn’t a ‘good’ or ‘bad’ thing. It’s an inevitable one. Our memories are ‘spotty’ and tend to be sugarcoated if you’re a ‘dreamer’. But each of us can come up with questions we’d ask if we could address the past. So, here’s my first: Where did you go?

My hometown was once a bustling small city that was built by factories. Most Massachusetts towns in the 50s had the same heartbeat.
Our booming city once had a population of about 22,000. Today, it is just under 13,000. Where did everyone go? Why did you leave?
I have come to realize that I am a member of a rare group. I still live in the same city where I was born and also my father was born here too. Incidentally, I married a hometown man whose family set up stakes here at the same time mine did. (Our fireside chats are wonderful ones based on our shared roots. We were witnesses to the same heartbeat and changes.)
In an interest to keep this post short and to the point, I’ll take one single thread of many to follow. I’m sure my hometown will be a part of many topics in this new category because it’s a BIG part of me.

Gangs of kids roamed the streets and filled the neighborhood schools, in our day. The ‘gangs’ were mostly made up of kids having fun not what it currently brings to mind. City sponsored ice skating rinks and playgrounds were frequented. The average family had at least 3 children, but I’d bet the median number was 5. It was easy to put together an impromptu game of football or ‘kick the can’. I cannot remember any single-parent households back then. It just wasn’t a “thing”. The movie A Christmas Story could have been based on my own experience minus that large department store… that was coming to my neighborhood later on.


Our city streets were once alive with shoppers visiting local specialty shops at Christmas. There was a shoe store, a music store, a 5 and 10 store, a sporting goods store, drug stores, jewelry stores, etc. that lined a beautifully decorated main street of brick buildings. We still say “going to the market” when we head to the grocery store here too. Churches of many denominations were everywhere. One nickname for our city was “Steeple Town” because of some grand cathedral-like structures with 25′ ceilings.


But something happened. It was probably gradual, but our city seemed to change overnight. Today North Adams has almost no resemblance to the city from my childhood. Many buildings have been torn down and saltbox chain store buildings have moved in. The neighborhood schools have almost gone away too. Junior High and High School are combined in one location. The factories closed and many families spread out and moved away. The charm of happy single-family based communities has been replaced with housing developments occupied by people who have no roots in our city and no old-fashioned sense of community. It all doesn’t feel much like progress.

I don’t blame any single thing on those changes. As I said, most change is inevitable. As a direct observer to the transformation of my own city, I can testify that it doesn’t ‘feel’ that most of the change was ‘for the better’. My gut tells me that the changes to the size and make-up of the American nuclear family lie somewhere near the core of all this.

So, I ask my city, “Where did you go?” and wonder, “Why did you change?”

I’m still here and I fondly remember your good ‘ole days.









My Old School and My Nature

My elementary school has long been torn down and been replaced by a single level ‘efficient’ structure. Above is a photo of it as I remember it. Children’s ‘comings and goings’ were much more relaxed in the 1960s. Locking doors and other security protocols were not even imagined then. What a marvelous time to be a kid!

That three-story building held beautiful 8′ wide hardwood stairways worn with slight ‘dips’ from years of energized foot traffic. Eventually that school became a Middle School (Junior High) and I got to tread those stairways even longer.

The hill that Brayton School sat upon was my small city’s winter sliding spot. Families and kids who weren’t even enrolled there and from all over gathered to slide on that perfect slope with toboggans, jumpers, saucers and sleds, on weekends and evenings throughout our snowy winters. I imagine that area may be forever haunted by the laughter and squeals of carefree happy families.

When I close my eyes, I hear enchanted echoes from our activities inside that sturdy structure. Like being inside an old Cadillac- built to last with sturdy materials and a classical design- there was a rich audio experience that cannot be reproduced in modern schools or cars.

As sentimental as I am about the building, a specific experience also reverberates with me. It was something I did as a Junior High School student.

I’ll explain:
We students moved from classroom to classroom for each subject. A bell rang to end the class giving us about three and a half minutes to find our way to our next classroom before another bell rang. If you didn’t get into the next class by the second bell, you were late and subject to detention unless you had a good excuse.

I don’t, to this day, know why but I made a decision that those three and a half minutes were mine to use as I pleased as long as I wasn’t late to class. On a warm spring day, I challenged myself to run to the trees (in the photo foreground) at the bottom of the hill and back to my second-floor classroom before the second bell. My heart pounded in anticipation and when the first bell rang, I was off! It was exhilarating and ‘dangerous’. My feet had wings!
I got to the door of my class as the second bell rang and as the teacher was beginning to close the door. I slipped through that narrowing opening and made it!

I would do this several more times throughout my studentship there. Never would I be late.

Funny how I never included anyone else in my testing (challenging) of the ‘system’. A few kids caught on, but I never really brought it to anyone’s attention on purpose. The only adult who became aware of my personal ‘Olympics’ was our gym teacher. She held class at the bottom of the hill and when she saw me racing across the field one day, asked me what I was doing. Once onboard with my stunt (Why wouldn’t she be? It was great exercise.), she was a cheerleader who clapped and cheered when she’d see me coming. Of course, she must have told the other teachers. I was probably a teacher’s lounge topic a few times too. No one bothered me about it, though. I wasn’t breaking any written rule. That’s the difference between ‘good teachers’ and ‘tyrant teachers’, by the way.

As I’ve grown older, I’ve become more appreciative of that childhood ‘game’. It makes me proud. I believe it also explains to me that my independent, non-conformist, nature has always been there. It also suggests that pushing myself to better myself, on my own terms, was another intrinsic character trait.

I woke up this morning needing to document this in my blogging journal. I hope you enjoyed my nostalgic tale.