My last blog was about playing games as a child. Monday night I had to stop at my Brother's house (the house I grew up in) to drop off some AVON for his wife. At the end of the block I saw this. Wow, does it bring back memories of childhood fun!
While inside my brother's house I talked to his son, "The Artist Formerly Known As Pablo", about the hill and how we used to play on it for hours as kids. "So have you been down there?" The answer was disappointing. "Nah, to busy." Seriously????
When I was growing up in the mid seventies there was an empty lot across the street from our house. Elsie and Orville (how's that for a couple of names) hadn't built there yet, and that is where the plows piled all the snow from the church on the end of the block, AND from the gas station across the alley. It made the above mountain (and that isn't even the best view, when I turned the corner it was LONG) look like a mole hill. It's not just a kids perspective either, we had much more snow then. It started snowing in November, and didn't quit until sometime in April. The Meys kids, and company, spent the few hours of daylight after school, and most weekend afternoons playing games and sliding on the hill.
When Elsie and Orville built their new house on that lot, the gas station (Panks) began plowing up their snow right behind their own lot. This happened to butt right up against Emily's yard, who was my friend Shannon's Grandma, so we had a snow hill there to play in. (When Shannon and I were getting along.) St. Anthony's started piling their snow up at the corner of their parking lot, and that is where the snow hill in the picture is located. My Mom was the secretary at the church for thirty years, and when she thought it was getting to dangerous she would have them take it and pile it next to the old school, which is apartments now. (Read as: wrecker of all things fun)
My oddest memory of the St. Anthony snow hill was a cold snowy afternoon in early January. Vicki and I decided to drag their old Christmas tree down to the hill and put it up on the hill. Don't ask, I don't remember why we thought that was a good idea. It didn't happen though, because after we arrived we got into an argument about something, (shocker) and then she got to drag the tree home, herself. :) I still remember watching her walk away, dragging that tree. ( Ten dollars says she remembers nothing.......she depends on me for that......so we'll just say it was all her fault.)
My childhood was magical, and even the rough spots have taught me valuable life lessons. There are definitely things about my teens that I would change, but nothing before the age of eleven. Playing outside in the snow with Jacob the dog this past Saturday I spent a lot of time remembering. I even tried to build a snowman, but he kept eating the head. :) Working with kids for so long I had the opportunity to play on a daily basis, and that is definitely something my life is lacking at the moment. Hmmmm..... we'll have to do something about that.
When I was growing up in the mid seventies there was an empty lot across the street from our house. Elsie and Orville (how's that for a couple of names) hadn't built there yet, and that is where the plows piled all the snow from the church on the end of the block, AND from the gas station across the alley. It made the above mountain (and that isn't even the best view, when I turned the corner it was LONG) look like a mole hill. It's not just a kids perspective either, we had much more snow then. It started snowing in November, and didn't quit until sometime in April. The Meys kids, and company, spent the few hours of daylight after school, and most weekend afternoons playing games and sliding on the hill.
When Elsie and Orville built their new house on that lot, the gas station (Panks) began plowing up their snow right behind their own lot. This happened to butt right up against Emily's yard, who was my friend Shannon's Grandma, so we had a snow hill there to play in. (When Shannon and I were getting along.) St. Anthony's started piling their snow up at the corner of their parking lot, and that is where the snow hill in the picture is located. My Mom was the secretary at the church for thirty years, and when she thought it was getting to dangerous she would have them take it and pile it next to the old school, which is apartments now. (Read as: wrecker of all things fun)
My oddest memory of the St. Anthony snow hill was a cold snowy afternoon in early January. Vicki and I decided to drag their old Christmas tree down to the hill and put it up on the hill. Don't ask, I don't remember why we thought that was a good idea. It didn't happen though, because after we arrived we got into an argument about something, (shocker) and then she got to drag the tree home, herself. :) I still remember watching her walk away, dragging that tree. ( Ten dollars says she remembers nothing.......she depends on me for that......so we'll just say it was all her fault.)
My childhood was magical, and even the rough spots have taught me valuable life lessons. There are definitely things about my teens that I would change, but nothing before the age of eleven. Playing outside in the snow with Jacob the dog this past Saturday I spent a lot of time remembering. I even tried to build a snowman, but he kept eating the head. :) Working with kids for so long I had the opportunity to play on a daily basis, and that is definitely something my life is lacking at the moment. Hmmmm..... we'll have to do something about that.
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