Summer Time Nostalgia

No rain today. The sun was shining at 8am and continued throughout the day. The girls went out and all was quiet. Of course before they left I needed to know they had their mobiles on them and they were fully charged. I warned them to let me know if they were going outside the village. I told them I'd text them for lunch

Different in my day....

We got up, ate breakfast, grabbed a "picnic" and were gone. We came home when we were hungry or when it got dark, whichever came first. Our parents never knew where we were or what we were doing. Mum probably thought we were at playscheme, which is where we were supposed to be, but if it got boring we wandered off on our own adventures. I lived next to a wood that led onto open fields. Huge trees that lent themselves to being houses, ships, batlefields -whatever took our fancy that day. the ground was covered by bluebells

Playscheme was at the log cabin at the end of our street. Open for the middle 4 weeks of the 6 weeks summer holidays to prevent bored children. Yes, thats 6 weeks summer holidays not 6 months like you Americans got

A solitary cabin in the middle of a huge field next to the woods. Run by bored university students after holiday cash and something worthwhile to put on their resume. There was an adventure playground in the field. I spent hours legs entwined around a horizontal pole, head down, hair in the mud with kids shouting at me because they wanted to cross from one hut to the other. Perhaps thats where I got my love of poles..

Deep in the woods was a clearing and someone had made a rope swing. It was called the Twirly Whirly. The leaders took us up there for a treat. Looking back they probably wanted to smoke pot or make out but I was young and naive and believed we were in for a treat. I was deemed too young at 8 by the older kids to go on the swing and now here was my chance. The rope swing took you high above a shallow pit. It was dangerous, it was daring, it was superhero stuff.


And it was my turn...

I had to be lifted to reach the thick wooden branch handle. 3 swings and jump off, those were the rules.

I swang once

I swang twice

I swang 3 times, gripping the handle like my life depended on it. I didn't really like it...

I got back to the bank after 3 and began to let go. But some kind soul decided the little kid should have a bonus go and pushed me once more...

I crashed down, down, down to the basin of the bottomless snake infested pit

Ok, so there were no snakes. but there was mud. Gooey, sticky mud. Except now it covered me from my head to my toes. I thnk the mud broke my fall because amazingly I was unhurt. I was a walking mud monster. And walk I did, all the way home, to meet a fate worse than snake infested pits

My mum

The log cabin burnt down a number of years ago. On bonfire night, hit by a stray firework. I walked past there recently, taking my parents' dog for a walk. The field looked tiny, the playground was no more. All that was left was the concrete base where the cabin stood