I remember all these things fondly. A friend and I would sing Connie Francis songs to our parents sitting on the front steps on a warm summer night. Best times.
No sprinkler, no street lights, no swing set, no ice creams trucks. We had a swing in a tree, ten acres, pecan trees, plum trees, Frank Sinatra. We did have fire flies, fire ants! and butterflies, fields full of whippoor wills, and a garden of good food, hopes of getting half of a six ounce bottled coke. In Jackson, MS the heat was brutal. The fun was endless.
I remember those things. And we used to play outside in Oklahoma until it was 103 degrees. My mom said they would remove cicada shells from the tree trunks and make necklaces in the 1930s. I would play with June bugs. Linda in Kansas
My childhood too. We were out of the house until dinner time. Usually on our bikes, inventing games, riding on dirt roads. I try not to look at it through simple, rose-coloured glasses. It was also boring at times. But real, somehow.
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We had a swing in a tree, ten acres, pecan trees, plum trees, Frank Sinatra. We did have fire flies, fire ants! and butterflies, fields full of whippoor wills, and a garden of good food, hopes of getting half of a six ounce bottled coke. In Jackson, MS the heat was brutal. The fun was endless.
It was boring at times. But, we ccould entertain ourselves by spending the long afternoon peeling the melted asphalt off our feet.