Childhood Living

[just strum]

This forum is made up of people from all around the world and of all ages, so I thought this thread might yield some interesting responses or at least engage you in some reminiscing. Think back to when you were 5 to 10 years old and is there anything you would like to share? Note where it took place or where you grew up.

I was cooking breakfast this morning and when I started one of the burners on the stove I turned the knob to far. It was only for a second, but it allowed gas to escape without igniting. At the moment I smelled the gas, I flashed back to when I was about 6 years old and would visit my great Grandmother and Grandfather outside of Detroit Michigan. Oh, the gas smell triggered it because my Great Grandmother would make a huge breakfast and she had a stove that had to be lit with matches, so there was always that initial smell of gas.

Well, that got the memory machine churning and I started thinking about a time between 5 and 10 years old. I thought about things that will never be again and things that are not so common in everyone's memories.

Some other things growing up in Cleveland, Ohio:

*coal furnace in one of the houses we lived in.

* A guy on a horse and buggy that would come down the street once a month (or so) and collect paper and rags.

* Milkman

* black and white TV (no remote and no cable)

* a guy in a small truck that would come around and sell fruit and vegetables.

* walking to school

* walking to the poultry shop to pick out a chicken for dinner or turkey for Thanksgiving.

* neighbor friend had a white Gibson SG and later a red Gibson SG, I remember staring at that guitar every time he opened the case

 

[Spudman]

When I was 5 I remember walking to school in Germany. Us Americans were on one side of the chain link fence and the German kids were walking to school on the other and at some point we would start picking up dirt clods and throwing them at each other. This would happen daily and a day without a dirt clod fight just wasn't a real good day it seemed. 5 was was fun!

Ever since then trowing rocks or smelling dirt in the air will trigger those memories.

 

[street music]

When I go back to those memories many things come to mind being a country boy growing up on a farm.
We had daily chores- milk the cow-gather the eggs-feed the rabbits & dogs.
We would wait beside the road for the school bus to pick us up around 6:30am and be out of school for almost a month at a time due to big snow fall.
Going coon hunting with my dad- never did like the taste of those critters.
We grew about everything we ate and worked in the garden all summer.
Carrying blocks of coal into the basement to put in th furnance.
Helping mom churn butter- now when was the last time you heard of kids doing that??
I was lucky enough to have 3 older brothers who were at least 7 years my elder, so I got dumped on a lot. I was the last to leave home and so I had plenty of time to see things change.
Mom had a piano, granny had a pedal organ-Dad was a minister.
My mom and Dad built a resturant when I was 11 and I learned very fast how to cook many different meals and got to be an expert at washing dishes. I got to meet girls working for mom as time went on, that just got me in more trouble.
I moved in with my granny at 12 and stayed the weekdays with her and would come home on the weekends to ride my horses and help dad with chores- that last four years and then I moved back home.
IN those days hard work was just something we took as regular life, strange how much easier kids today have it.

Sorry if I bored anyone-Strum started my ole mind to clicking.

 

[just strum]

Street, that's what I was looking for - views from different parts of the country and world. I didn't know you were a country boy and I didn't know Spud spent time in Germany as a youth. I also remember dirt clods, but haven't heard the term in a long time.

 

[oldguy]

Let's see.....oh, yeah..
Cranking a handle on a cistern pump to get a bucket of water, no running water.
Stacking bales of straw around the house in the winter, no insulation.
Cutting, splitting, and carrying in wood, 2 wood stoves was our only heat. Then carrying out the ashes every day.
Using an old fashion outhouse (the cultured folk said "privy"), again, no running water.
Carrying 5 gal. buckets of feed for the hogs and cattle, dumping it in the feed troughs, then pumping water into the tanks so they had drinking water, twice a day, every day. Breaking frozen ice so they could drink in the winter.
Milking the cows by hand morning and night......(otherwise they got "full", and consequently, tender ,and touchy).
Planting a huge garden in spring, and sometimes autumn, and canning what we picked.
Butchering 1 beef and 2 hogs every year.
Eating some of the best food I ever had (or ever will have) 7 days a week, year 'round.
Walking 1/2 mile to catch the school bus, then riding 2 miles to a 1 room schoolhouse, 13 students, grades 1 through 8. Myself and 2 girls, twins, made up the entire first grade class! (this only lasted 1 yr, tho. Then the schools consolidated in our county and things really went to he!!).
My Dad "inheriting" his Dad's '56 Ford pickup (when Grampa bought his '65), overhauling the engine, and finally having 1 good vehicle.
My Dad buying a '56 Ford grain truck to haul his grain in, it looked just like his pickup, 'cept is was red instead of blue, and a whole lot bigger, at least to a 6 yr. old.
Using my Dad's pocket knife to cut a switch so he could whip my a$$.
Dad taking his leather belt off to whip my a$$.
The neighbors who lived a mile away threatening to whip my a$$.
Mom using a flyswatter or yardstick to whip my a$$.
( I was beginning to see a pattern here, much like the ever evolving yet constant fractal, and decided a course of action must follow to remedy the situation.)
Learning how to conduct myself like a young gentleman 'cause I was tired of getting my a$$ whipped.:thwap:
Being an only child until age 7, then waiting patiently 'till my little brother was 7, and watching him get his a$$ whipped.:bravo:
Knowing what it was to have family and neighbors who were there when you needed them, and knowing you would be there for them when they needed you.
Going to barn dances, fish fry's, card games, softball games, squaredances, ice skating on ponds, sledding down slopes on hayfields, river fishing, squirrel hunting, and walking a mile up a gravel road to visit my Grandad........and the first time I ate apple pie (he had made) w/ him.......I didn't know he could cook!!!
Getting 2 new sets of school clothes and 1 set of work clothes every year.
There were always a half dozen outfits left over from previous year, so we had plenty.
Figuring out how to crank the handle on the side of the box on the wall (they called it a "phone"), and people up the road on the party line would talk to you!! (great fun when you're 4 or 5 yrs. old).
Getting fireworks around the 4th of July.
Finding out you could light them w/ a magnifying glass!:bravo:
Damming up the creek w/ big flat rocks and mud and making your own personal swmmin' hole.
Learning not to throw dirt clods and rocks at those wasp nest about the size of a dinner plate.........you might be bigger, but 'ya ain't faster......
That's probably enough hillbilly memories for now.

 

[peachhead]

My neighbor played drums in a country band and sometimes he would let me bang away at them. Always wanted drums after that. To this day, I still don't have any. (maybe when the basement is done...)
Dirt clod fights were always cool.
Picking honeysuckle from the fence by the railroad tracks at the very back side of the playground in elementary school.
Playing softball on that same playground. First time I hit a home run I carried the bat all the way around the bases with me.

 

[Spudman]

When I think back I realize that most of my strongest memories are triggered by odors or scents. These days when I'm out riding my bicycle or motorcycle and get a big whiff of cow poop I'm instantly transported back to when I was in 3rd grade.

I lived on my uncle's dairy farm and we supplied milk to the eastern part of Montana. Realize that this is a huge operation with hundreds of cows being milked 2 times per day. That many cows needing to be where they could be brought in easily for milking meant that they were kept in close proximity to each other and our houses and they ate a lot. Concentration of cows=concentration of cow poop.

At first the smell was so pervasive I thought I would die. If it wasn't for spending the day at school or being out riding my dirt bike I would have lost my mind because of the smell. Some how, and I don't know when, that feeling vanished and now whenever I smell cow poop I go back to a happy time in life. That manna smell reminds me of: Dirt bikes, 22 rifles, pistols, BB guns, wrist rockets, climbing cottonwoods, spotlighting, sneaking beer found in the ditch, hot sunny days, new hormones, young girls and rock and roll. What a great life!

 

[M29]

Spud,

I got the same thing when we first had our kids. When I would color with them I would smell the color crayon while scratching my nose or something like that and I would remember when I was back in school. Or when I used chalk, I would smell that and remember back then. Smells could go on and on. The smell of shellac when my dad was working on furniture or the smell of lacquer when he was showing me how to paint a car or motorcycle. The smell of certain kinds of wood when sawn or when burned...Awesome memories...

 

[street music]

OG, you brought several similar memories back as I had, COUNTRY BOY! Yes sir.
We lived very near a fireworks bootlegger and his kids would sneak out a box of cherry bombs and we would toss them in the creek and see how big a fish we could get.
I know growing up cuttin the limb off the apple tree for mom to use on my butt till dad got home and out came the leather belt. It don't take a lot of that to straighten your head out.
I would tell about me having an acident with mom's dog but that is a bad memory that only had 1/2 of a good ending.

 

[markb]

This is where I grew up. Contrary to popular opinion, Zadie Smith doesn't write magic realism. It really was like that!

 

[Katastrophe]

Most of my good childhood memories center around my Grandfather. He used to take my cousin and I fishing, and hunting. At one point we had a couple of horses, and he used to chase 'em all over the place to get them saddled. He would hold the reins and let us ride for a bit.

I have the .22 that I learned to shoot on, after I graduated up from BB guns.

I learned a lot about treating people well, and honestly, working hard and doing a job right the first time, and other life lessons from him.

He passed away on my birthday, 1995. I miss him.

 

[just strum]

A couple more things came to me last night.

We lived very close to the Cleveland Zoo and I can remember on nights when we left the windows open that early in the morning the animals were very vocal and in the right conditions you could hear things like lions or large cats roaring, elephants trumpeting, peacocks squawking (I think that's what you would call it), and some of the monkeys making their noise. On a few occasions we would get a monkey or peacock loose in the neighborhood.

My Uncles up in Michigan all had large boats and I can remember visiting them and going out on the different boats on Lake Michigan. Every time I am on the water or driving along Lake Erie I don't think there isn't a time that a memory of that doesn't flash through my mind.

 

[Andy]

oh man.

During that period we were living in the upstairs of an elderly couples house.
outside colorado springs.
Dad spent 3 tours in Vietnam. mom worked 2 jobs . I still don't know how she did it.After school I would go to the local boys club untill mom got off work, than we would go to a friends house and play with their kids till she finished her second job before we went home.

Still I never thought of doing without, walked to school, all that stuff.it was just a normal happy upbringing to me.
To this day,I never complain or worry about doing without.
mabey thats why I'm somewhat bitter about alot of kids/parents these days.
We would get 1 toy for christmas and I can still tell you today what each one was and how much it meant.
not trying to post a sob story but thats how it was and I look back and consider them good times where life was simple and little things meant alot.

when I got an acoustic at the age of 9 I played and cherished that old beater because I felt priveledged to get it . I knew it didn't come easy.heck, even my little brother was happy about it and we would set with me practicing and learning songs. We would be in our room playing/ singing and just have a blast.I consider them the good old days.

when dad came back for good we moved to augusta Georgia into a trailer park
we went fishing every weekend and I had an earthworm farm. I would get up at 5am every weekend and sell earthworms and catawba worms by the roadside , that was my trading cards and comicbook money.
walking to school was mabey 2 miles(atleast it seemed that far) so for the first christmas we got bicycles !(remember the schwinn orangecrate?) We were the cock of the walk with those orange bikes!
every sunday I would clean the dryers at the local laundrymat for the loose change... man did I make some good money doing that !

like the others, I could go on and on, I can say that the worst punishment was being restricted to the house... times have changes so much...lol

 

[F_BSurfer]

This is so fitting as I am spending time thinking of times past due to the fact my dad passed yesterday. I was four when we moved to the house where all my child hood memories are. A four bedroom house sitting on 30 acres mostly apple trees, sugar creek running through the property.At the time there was 6 of us kids my youngest brother was in bread basket my youngest sister came two years later (6 boys 2 girls)plus my grandmother(dads mom ) House didn't have no indoor plumbing or electricity (still had gas lamps).My dad and my grandpa wired the house for electricity dad work at Eureka Vacuum so sweeper cords was used.I was 7 when bathroom was added on next to the kitchen.I was fifteen before I graduated to a bedroom,me and two younger brothers slept on a sleeper sofa in the living room every morning would fold it back up move coffee table back.Growing up if we did not grow it, raise it ,shoot it, or catch it we did not eat it.Always had chores to do,great thing my parents did is us kids got the money from selling eggs,apples dressed rabbits and beagle pups.Think I was 8 or 9 we had a banney rooster that just hated me he wouldn't bother no one else in the family but the second that I got near him the thing would attack,one morning collecting eggs I finally had enough went got my 22 and shot it,mom lit my butt up for that!! Dad didn't do the whipping mom did and having 6 boys she was pretty good at it!!
We had a few dirt clod fights but it was mainly apple fights now them things hurt.My favorite meal growing up was fresh eggs and bluegill. In 1966 dad bought a fastback mustang that was the coolest car.I remember laying in back of it john boat hook to the back going 110mph trying to make it to the river before it got dark. Couple times a month have big fish fries with all family over bon fires my dad and uncle picking out old Irish folk.1968 for xmas I received a fender strat, dad had to deal with teamsters at work so it probably came from fell off the truck sale. I could go on and on great days simpler times.

 

[Andy]

fb,
My condolences to your fathers passing.I'm sure you have many good memories going thru your mind at this time.
May god bless you and your family

 

[oldguy]

Sorry to hear about your father, FB............good memories are what we hopefully have after our loved ones pass on.
Those were some nice memories you shared, thank you for that.

 

[Childbride]

F_B... my deepest condolences... mine passed in 05 and i think of him constantly...

==================
horses. or more correctly, ponies, at that age. i can smell trixie and chico now, and hear the soft [whump] as grandpa would hike the saddle onto the blanket. the smell of tack. the delightful, conversational creaking of the saddle as i rode around the yard and then later, the pasture.

the magic of seeing a newborn hereford calf. i can close my eyes and remember their smell, too... and the feel of their hair.

pretending i was a deer or a horse, running down cattle trails all over the ranch, trying to imitate the way that they ran.

catching grasshoppers to go fishing at the tank. i can hear the exact whistle my father would make to signal that one of the three of us [we took turns] needed to come and get the fish he had just caught, and deliver it safely to the stringer.

helping out in the lumberyard as soon as i was old enough to slap price stickers on paint cans... that it was a privilege to 'work' with grandpa and stock the shelves.

my grandfather's hands. i was fascinated by how much bigger his hands and feet were than mine. i would place my tiny hands up against his, my feet against his. how safe i felt when he had me seated on the pommel of his saddle, arms around me and hands over mine with the reins as we rode to check fences, check cattle...

getting just as filthy as a kid can get with my siblings, then gram putting all three of us in an old washtub and hosing us off...

my father taking long walks with me. we loved to walk; sometimes talking, sometimes not. him teaching me enough names of local plants and trees to win a merit badge in brownies.

my grandfather had a huge garden/orchard. he would come home from the lumberyard and grab a shovel, which was our cue to grab huge bushel baskets and dutifully follow. he would turn that sandy/coliche [sp?] soil and we would pick out the potatoes, pick beans, squash, onions, tomatoes, etc...

getting up at the crack of dawn during the holidays to dutifully cut veggies for mom's stuffing, stuffed mushrooms, etc.

we had a ritual when doing the tree... she would tell us which one of us she was pg with when she made each one as we hung them on the tree. [i actually asked her to send me some of them in my last conversation with her this week... i only have one, currently]

fighting my mother tooth and nail when she would try to get me into a dress, then after she would leave my room, sneak on a pair of shorts underneath so i could still climb trees/play on the jungle gym and do penny drops.

my sister and i shared a bedroom. we would literally sing each other to sleep at that age... [angels watching over me, my Lord...all night, all day] but when one of us would start to fall asleep, the other would wake her up to sing back.

mr. gillespie. one of our neighbors' birthday was the fourth of july, so his life's passion was fireworks. his entire garage/part of his house was literally warehoused with them. he lived across the street from us. every fourth, he put on a tremendous display. he had a two-foot black powder cannon that he would shoot off to signify the beginning of the display. it would backfire a good five feet in his grass. he would let the older children help light his goodies during the night, under the sodium glare of the corner streetlight in our front yard.

talking to my mother's swollen belly to my unborn brother telling him i knew he was a boy, he had to be a boy, b/c i wanted a brother, by golly...

but the one thing i remember above all else is that at that age, Everything Was Magical. simply everything. i just have to look a little harder these days to find the Magic.

 

[street music]

FB, so sorry for your loss. The best to you and the family during this holiday season.

CB, I think the Magic was is still there , all the fun you were having last night with BG and Shiner???? Come on girl! I here Magic from your singing and playing. Magic comes in many forms and the story you just told was full of that very touch. I hope to hear from more Fretters as each brings back many days gone past.

 

[just strum]

FB, my condolences on the passing of your father. It was great of you to share your memories at this time.

 

[peachhead]

FB, my condolences also. I lost my Dad in '99. If it weren't for all the good memories, this would be a very difficult time of year. My thoughts and prayers are with you and your family.