I was tagged both by MommaK and Marie to complete this meme about childhood memories. The tags were so long ago that they almost qualify as childhood memories themselves. Sorry for the delay!
The rules:
Remove the blog at #1 from the following list and bump everyone up one place; add your blog’s name in the #5 spot. You need to link to each of the other blogs for the desired cross-pollination of your chosen blogs. (This was tricky for me, since I was tagged twice. I improvised and used the #4 blog from each of their lists, then included both MommaK and Marie. So sue me.)
1. Home Grown http://www.bigredcouch.com/journal
2. True Blue 4ever http://www.trueblue4ever.blogspot.com/
3. Petroville http://petroville.blogspot.com
4. PractiGal http://practigal.typepad.com/practigal/
5. Bluegrass Mama http://www.bluegrassmama.com
Next: select new friends to add to the pollen count.
I’m not much of a tagger. If you think this sounds like fun, go for it!
Now, please write about five things you miss from childhood.
1. Playing rummy 500 with my mom for a penny a point. In fact, doing anything with my mom.
2. Having five brothers and sisters constantly available to fight with blame things on play with.
3. Our dog, Stranger. He was a stray who showed up one day. Dad said we couldn’t keep him and we couldn’t name him, since he must belong to someone else and already have a name. Family legend says that Dad was true to his word and made us send him away the next morning, but I brought him back. Stranger was simply the Greatest. Dog. Ever. (This is high praise from a self-avowed “cat person.”)
4. Firemen’s Field Days. There was not a whole lot to do in our tiny town of 200 people, but the fire department had a fundraiser every year with carnival rides and booths. It was the highlight of the summer. (Note: we moved to a “big town” of 2,500 when I hit middle school. They had Field Days, too.)
5. The freedom we had to wander all over the town so long as we came home for dinner when the fire siren went off at 5 PM (or maybe it was 6–I miss my memory, too!).
10 Comments
Actually, Mom said we couldn’t keep Stranger and would not let him in the house. Dad showed up Friday afternoon (he had the weekly commute from Syracuse then just before we moved to the “big” town); Dad let Stranger in and fed him, and that was all she wrote …
Aww! Stranger… Love that name.
Thanks for playing, BGM!
Did we grow up near each other? in central NY?
A penny a point!! You were big spenders! We played for matchsticks!
ahd: Poetic license. Not to mention Selective Memory. Love, Sis
Love Stranger! What a great name for a dog! Like firemen too!
Dear Bluegrass Sister,
Consider my memory and literal use of the curse of being a programmer.
-ahd-
I miss the free wandering too. I had to come home when the street lights came on.
We still play 500 and gin and spades and hearts…
I love your dog story!! Thanks for playing. I loved your memories:-)
And the vet said Stranger about10 years old, gave him his “last” rabies shot, as he probably wouldn’t be around for another one in 4 years and didn’t that dog go and get TWO more! (the fire whistle blew at 6:00)
Here’s a link to a (unfortunately inferior) picture of Stranger at age ~ 12.
Actually, Stranger stayed with us for the next 15 years, hence, he was 25 when I had to have him put down (while you were in school and did I catch hell for that from you). The reason Mom let Stranger in the house that first night was becuase he was in such bad shape from traveling from who knows where and it was predicted to be rather cold. I told Mom we couldn’t let that poor dog die on our front porch and she relented. The other thing I remember is that all you kids had been giving the tired dog water all day to help revive him. His pads were in bad shape and he had blood spots in his ears. He was physically just worn out from traveling and getting into God knows what. I doubt he had had much to eat either. But he could not tell us his story. We just accepted him for what he was…a lovely family-type dog who already knew how to shake hands. I was always sorry for the family that lost him.