Ah, lazy summer Sundays. Ya can't beat 'em! When I was a kid in the Sixties my dad would water the garden with a round sprinkler, which was great fun to jump in out of. We'd maybe pitch a tent too and spend the night outside, whilst my older brothers made growling noises and shook the guide ropes!
All the summer gear came out of the shed: windbreaks, Lilo's, sun parasols, deckchairs and my favourite, the paddling pool. There was just something wonderful leaping into it and sliding along the wet plastic bottom, whilst removing half of the water at the same time! Still, a quick top up with the garden hose and we were away again!
I think most of my toys ventured out into the garden too at some point. There's probably some still buried there! I remember playing with my Action Man figures a lot outside and mates brought their own round and we'd dress our men and swap accessories like a German Stormtrooper stick grenade for a Jungle Fighter machete!
It's funny how as kids we just did stuff without much planning. The only plan in summer was to be outside as long as possible. Playing out we used to call it. Kids would come round and say to my Mum 'Is Woodsy playing out Mrs. Woods?', to which the replies varied from 'No, he's having his dinner' to 'He's in the garden digging up dinosaurs'.
I was once playing on my own in the garden no doubt discovering a complete T. Rex skeleton in the flower border. My Mum had nipped next door for a cuppa with Mrs. Mortiblogs [not her real name!]. The resident tramp of Ashton, Old Tramp Joe, suddenly appeared at the garden gate. He hadn't seen me but I saw him. I was, I have to admit. terrified of Old Joe. He wore a thick old overcoat tied at the waist with string and a pair of reeking rubber wellies, all topped off with a a grizzly beard and a mucky flat cap.
Old Joe hummed to high Heaven and he was now in our shed rummaging about. He walked out with a pair of shears and cleared off sharpish! I told my Mum when she got back 5 minutes later but Joe was long gone. My Mum had a soft spot for Joe and the silly old devil would have got away with it had he not come back the next week and tried to sell the shears back to us! ha ha! He'd forgotten where he'd nicked them from! Joe will be sleeping where all folks are equal now bless his soul.
As for me, anyone playing out?
Growing up in Milwaukee, summer days were longer than they are here in Lost Wages - no mountains to block the suns last rays before it too goes to bed for the night. Summers were sandlot baseball, tackle basketball, riding bikes, or getting out the model cars and seeing how many head-on crashes they could survive. Waging war with little green army men was a given, giving away to G.I. Joe's when they came out. We never had a little pool (that I can remember) but did have a swing set and a sand box (as hard as I tried I could never get the swing to actually travel in a complete circle and launch me into the neighbor's yard!). Playing outside in the summer now means braving triple-digit temps and, at this time of year, putting up with the monsoon season and the high humidity (along with high temps). I do miss childhood summers!
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