The school bells are tolling again.
Today all the schools are back in session. I don’t have to look at the calendar date – nope, and I don’t even rely on common sense – just my senses: who can miss that yellowy-orange bus amid a sea of SUVs, all grinding to a halt as they enter a school zone? And look at the school kids hefting brand-new backpacks and not even attempting to hide their sullen looks as they trudge to the door where the principal greets them with a smile. Those scowling kids see right past that principal’s silly grin as they anticipate 179 more days of tests, homework and alarm clocks going off at the crack of dawn.
Next, while I wend my way to the Park, of course I could hear that school bus, chugging up and down the street, gears grinding like it was hauling a load of middle linebackers, instead of just a group of school kids.
Once that bus had passed, in its wake was the unmistakable smell of diesel fumes as huge plumes threatened to choke every squirrel and bird in the ‘hood … and Yours Truly too.
Yep, school is back in session, the 2019 version.
Many moons ago it was the first day of school for me too.
I didn’t take the bus, as E.A. Orr Public School was just a stone’s throw away from the cul-de-sac, a/k/a Sandmere Place, where I lived. All us kids in the neighborhood were around the same age and someone’s older sister would herd us along to school every morning and again at the end of our school day. Big sister Monica was puffed up with importance as she walked alongside all of us fresh-faced tykes. We giggled aplenty and childish squeals erupted as we tripped along Sandmere Place, but when we got to Tansley Drive, we obediently did as our parents asked and clasped onto a friend’s free hand. Then, with Monica in the lead, we were a brigade of munchkins marching across this busy street. We arrived safely at our elementary school (pictured below) simply because there was safety in numbers.
I wasn’t scared in the least and I figured I had this kindergarten thing licked, because we’d already practiced spelling and vocabulary words, plus I learned math by adding and subtracting animal crackers or Smarties, the Canadian equivalent of plain M&Ms. (Despite those fun exercises, math has never been my strong point and evidently I was not a stellar speller, despite Mom’s coaching, because I enlarged the photo to check out the name tag on my dress for the first day of school – I’m pretty sure I wrote my name, not Mrs. Kellett and I made an abomination of it.)
Long before I started kindergarten I could rattle off: “My name is Linda Susan Mary Schaub, and I live at 497 Sandmere Place, Oakville, Ontario, Canada. My phone number is Valley 7-3219.“ (Oh my, but the human brain is pretty amazing isn’t it after all these years?)
When just a handful of days remained before kindergarten began, and I would finally don my new plaid dress and sport a barrette that was positioned just so, to pin some wayward strands of hair from my eyes so I could see the blackboard, Mom sat me down and said that yes, I was a big girl going to school, but she had something important to tell me. No, it was not a spiel on the birds and the bees, nor to bust the myth about Santa and his reindeer, but instead, it was a lesson on “stranger danger” even though this was decades before the term “stranger danger” was coined. Sadly today’s 5-year olds are much savvier about such unpleasant subjects, than we were circa 1961. That’s thanks to the internet which they readily access on smart phones and tablets. Face it, they know a helluva lot more about life in general than we ever did at their age.
So, after Mom imparted her wisdom to me, she said “now don’t be scared, learn lots of new things and make Mommy and Daddy proud of you.”
So, off I went, leaving behind my comfort zone of Mom, “Romper Room” and “Captain Kangaroo” and began kindergarten with Mrs. Kellett and all my new classmates. Some were already my playmates from the neighborhood. We learned a lot and had mid-morning milk and cookies and a nap on a pad that was placed on the classroom floor.
So what advice did Mom give me all those years ago?
As I recall, it went like this:
“If someone tries to give you candy or sweets, politely say ‘no thank you’ and then run away!”
“If someone tries to lay a hand on you, scream as loud as you can and then run away!”
“If someone calls you over to their car, you run away!”
“Don’t get into anyone’s car – ever. That means even a neighbor’s car, even someone you know – don’t get into their car. You know what to do Linda, right?”
“And, if someone tells you Mommy or Daddy were hurt and they’ll take you to them, run as fast as your legs will carry you!”
“If you are lost, look for a policeman, or ask someone to find a policeman, then tell him your name, address and telephone number that you memorized. You can always trust a policeman. When Mommy was your age, all the kids wanted to walk across the busy street in front of the school with the policeman and hold his hand.”
“So, have you got all that Linda?”
Wow, that was a lot to absorb and I obediently said “yes Mommy” … a lot to fill a little kid’s head with.
As a kid I always toed the line – my parents were strict and with no siblings to back me up or help forge new trails, I was all on my own. I never forgot Mom’s warnings as I advanced through elementary, middle and high school. Even as I wandered the halls of Old Main on Wayne State University’s campus in Detroit, her words echoed in my mind. I was always aware of my surroundings and I was always careful.
Until one rainy day.
I was wearing a brand-new outfit, a sky-blue sundress made of silk voile fabric. There were at least a thousand tiny white polka dots splashed across the bodice and a swirl of tiny pleats that swished when I walked. A white linen bolero blazer completed the ensemble. It was the first day after the Memorial Day holiday and I was excited to get dressed up with white sandals and a white purse since it was now acceptable to “wear white” … suffice it to say I thought I was “all that”! 🙂
Because the dress had an under liner it had to be dry cleaned … in fact, a warning on the label said “do not wash!” There were no worries as it was supposed to be a beautiful and sunshiny day. But alas, the weather forecasters didn’t always get it right (even back in the 80s). I was sitting on the bus on the way home and out of the corner of my eye I could see dark clouds gathering. I couldn’t concentrate on my book as I stewed and fretted over the fate of my dress once I got off the bus, since I had to cross busy Fort Street and walk a block or so after that.
As the bus pulled over to my stop and I hopped off, the big fat drops started a’ flyin’ and soon there was a rumble of thunder as well – just great. I dashed to take cover under the drive-in bank’s concrete canopy, prepared to plant myself there until the storm was over, even if it took all evening.
But, after hunkering down for a short time, I heard a horn honk and a police car pulled into the bank’s parking lot. I watched the rain-spattered window roll down and a young police officer gave me a toothy grin and said “it looks like you’re going to get your pretty dress all wet – want to hop in and I’ll give you a ride home?”
Casting all sense and sensibility to the wind, I smiled sweetly and said “sure” and got into the police cruiser. The officer asked my name and address and we were off, (thankfully without the sirens going), and not a thought in my head except how I was salvaging my new outfit. He pulled up in the driveway and I said “thanks a bunch – I appreciate it immensely” and I hopped out.
When I got into the house, my mom said “I thought about you coming home in the rain with your new outfit – why, your dress is bone dry. Did someone from work give you a ride home?”
I told her about my good fortune.
She said “oh, was it one of the cops you knew from Carter’s?” (I worked at a diner through college and we prepared all the meals for the prisoners, so I got to know all the police officers who came to pick the food up.)
“Nope, just a young officer, likely fresh out of the academy, who was being polite, considering I’m a lot older than he was – he was just being nice Mom.”
She didn’t miss a beat and said: “well I thought I raised a smarter kid. Didn’t you pay attention to me all those years ago?”
Hmm …. well, I didn’t miss a beat either and said “but you always told me it was safe to trust a policeman when I was a kid, so why is it any different now, if I may be so bold and brazen as to ask?” (My mom and I didn’t always see eye to eye on everything.)
She sighed long and loud and took a moment to respond, and when she did, she said “Linda dear – sometimes you just have to use your head for more than a place to hang your earrings.”
Well, chastising me like that stung a little, but I have to admit it was a bit reckless on my part. No, I was not a babe in the woods, so blame it on vanity, or even stupidity if you will. Or perhaps I was just too trusting.
After that episode, I got a fold-down golf umbrella and a lightweight, full-length raincoat and they stayed in my bus tote bag year around for the rest of my commuting days. Of course, if you listen to the news these days, there are the occasional rogue cops, or persons impersonating a police officer who stop women for traffic infractions. This was just a nice officer being a good guy. But yes, I do concede you have to have your wits about you every time you step out of the house, no matter what age you are.
So why did I relay that silly story from eons ago?
Saturday morning I got to Council Point Park and soon thereafter, a truck carrying a crew of grass cutters arrived and began to unload their large and noisy industrial lawn mowers. Well that was a bummer because I knew the squirrel interaction would be zero, because once the machines started up, the squirrels would beat a hasty retreat to their respective nests to cower in silence. I knew the grass cutting would continue even after I departed, so I deposited peanuts on the picnic tables, a few park benches and a cement wall to give my furry friends a snack later.
But one squirrel, either oblivious to the roar of a half-dozen large lawnmowers, or very hungry, threw caution to the wind and came to see what I offered, though he appeared a bit wary to this tall stranger, obviously a “newbie” to this venue. As I stood there trying to coax him over to the park bench for some peanuts, he gave me the once-over to determine whether I was indeed trustworthy enough to come down from his high perch atop a chain-link fence, where he hightailed it once the noise began.
He looked down at me with a hint of disdain.
Then he tip-toed along the top of the fence, treating it like a thick tightrope, and I pictured the gears in his brain simultaneously matching the soft clicking noises I made to try to woo him to the short tree next to where I stood since he didn’t seem to like the park bench.
Alas, he deemed this stranger posed no danger, so, with a little fancy footwork …
… he joined me on the ground where I coaxed him closer to me with peanuts, many more than he could stuff into his mouth (though he would surely try to do so).
Unfortunately, the fellow with the weed whacker came along and fired that baby up – the noise was deafening, and my furry friend took off, the half-eaten peanut shells scattering to the wind. He beat it up the tree at the speed of sound, and, heart pounding, he looked around …
… so, was he looking for help, (the squirrel equivalent of “phoning a friend”), someone to come fetch him from the horrible noise and a stranger who was way too close for comfort?
His safe haven became a fork in the tree and that cranny seemed tailor-made for him.
There he perched, just waiting for a chance to bolt and be done with all these intrusive humans. When I tried to put some peanuts up there for him, I obviously intruded into his personal space, and he shot right to the top of the tree. He’s no Parker and we’ll have to work on establishing some trust here. I tried to find him each successive time around the walking loop to no avail.
So here’s a quote to close this longish post: “Safety is as simple as your ABCs – always be careful.”
Linda Schaub
WALKIN', WRITIN', WIT & WHIMSY 
Do not ask for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.
The school bell rings these days but so much of school is, i feel, rather penitentiary-like. Teachers are a result of our so-called modern age; really they are substitute-parents. It’s not possible to pile 25 or more kids in a room and give each one the mothering attention that they need. Additionally, they are seldom “educated” beyond limitation, beyond four enclosing walls and a lot of stale books.
There is a ton of danger, these sick days, for children in school (in the U.S.)… with mass shootings and with real nut-cases roaming the streets. But there is a lot of danger inside the school walls also. There is a lot of indoctrination, conditioning, and manipulation that is primitive and mindless (by teachers themselves). However, most people are so indoctrinated by “the way things are” that they do not notice anything wrong whatsoever. Meanwhile, society is anything but very stable and harmonious.
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I sure would not bring kids into the world now Tom and not only that, if I had kids I would be home schooling them. I worked with a guy at the law firm and he and his wife had one child, a daughter, and they decided they would home school her Roger’s wife had been a middle school teacher. That was twenty years ago, long before all the school shootings. I cannot imagine how kids feel these days about going to school. You and I had tornado drills – they have shelter-in-place or hide/run/fight drills. The back-to-school ads included backpacks that are bullet proof. This is no way to live and it doesn’t matter if you are a five-year-old student or a college student, if a person with a gun goes on a rampage – every person in a school these days is a sitting duck and it makes me feel sick sometimes. The more shootings I heard about, the sicker I feel.
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I’m so glad that we decided not to have kids. The world is way overcrowded the way it is.
I lived at a spiritual retreat oriented place years ago in Perth, Ontario (for six months). The sweet family who owned the land there homeschooled their two little girls even though there was a magnificent alternative school nearby, with only a few kids to a classroom.
I am 67 now and i remember the grade school drills of going into the hallways and putting our heads between our legs — during alarms for a possible nuclear attack. Then i saw, in my home encyclopedia, that our school was in a suburb so close to Chicago that any drills or hallway moves would be a waste of time. We were in the absolute “all dead” zone.
And the nuns would try to motivate us to learn better by constantly suggesting that we could build better bombs than the Russians, in the future, if we studied hard. Some motivation!
Though nature is orderly, the operations of mankind are getting farther and farther away from such natural order.
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Wow Tom – well I am 63, and we never had nuclear attack drills, unless we were never told that was the purpose. We had fire drills routinely and once I started school here in the States beginning sixth grade, we had both fire drills and tornado drills, just getting under our desks … how much shelter could you get under those rickety wooden desks anyway? That’s very scary to know you were having drills as to nuclear attacks. As a kid, you’d rather not know those things. Sad that the nuns would correlate your learning experience to becoming smart enough to build better bombs down the road. It was scary even then, let alone now.
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The nuns were rather eccentric and “off the beam.” Honestly, they would frequently preach to us about making “bomb shelters.” I remember diligently studying the possibility of making one… until i read about how we were in the “all dead” zone. During the Cuban Missle Crisis, the nuns had all the students terrorized about the possibility of suddenly dying in a nuclear attack (soon). They had all the kids praying and going to confession (before it was too late). It was a ploy to get kids to become so-called “very religious.” Most all of the students were walking around with rosaries in their pockets, praying on them. I didn’t carry a rosary around and, like Emily Dickinson, was probably deemed “a lost cause.” Even back then, i saw through the calculated propaganda and adult insanity. Thank goodness!
“Pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen.” 🙂
from T.S. Eliot:
“We are only undeceived
Of that which, deceiving, could no longer harm.”
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Very interesting what you have told me Tom. When we moved to the States, I was enrolled in public school as I attended public school in Canada. What my parents later discovered was that here in the U.S., Catholic schools provided a better education and they lamented for years that they put me in public school. It was the opposite in Canada – they just assumed. The school curriculum in this City was laughable and I was learning things in sixth grade (where I began after we moved here) that I had learned several years before. In high school, the school lost its accreditation for two years and we went to school for four hours only, college prep classes and no extracurricular activities at all – you may see “do you need the extracurricular activities – you are in school to learn after all” A lot of kids had counted on scholarships for band, music, drama and sports. We could not take college prep classes and finally got extracurricular activities back in my senior year.
I had no idea that the nuns would tell tales like that to encourage the kids to become more religious – I wish my mom was here to tell her this info because she forever bemoaned the fact that my education was so mediocre. When I got to college (I went to community college for my AA, then transferred to a four-year university for my BA) I quickly learned just how inadequate my education was when I saw what I had missed, especially in literature. Other high schools had read poetry, Thoreau, Shakespeare and all the classics. Whatever classics I read was because my parents were avid readers and I went to the library to check out books for me to read, especially during the Summer months.
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My parents moved me from public school to parochial school when i was in the 5th grade. It was a big mistake. However, in retrospect, it may have been a great blessing. It helped me see the spiritual hypocrisy of organized religion early on. The teachers in the public school were much better. In parochial school, our 8th-grade nun-so-called-teacher would leave the class unattended for hours, supposedly to arrange flowers for the altar. (If i told you where she really was, with the priest, you wouldn’t believe it.)
High school for me was public; we had a great literature teacher who introduced us to Whitman, though, at the time, i was not yet fully appreciative of that blessing.
Excerpt from Walt Whitman:
You will hardly know who I am, or what I mean;
But I shall be good health to you nevertheless,
And filter and fibre your blood.
Failing to fetch me at first, keep encouraged;
Missing me one place, search another;
I stop somewhere, waiting for you.
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You were lucky to have quality teachers because I can’t speak highly of any teacher in my high school years and in junior high I was bullied by a teacher I had for three classes and homeroom (3 1/2 hours a day with her). I finally went to the principal after calling my father to the school – he had a horrible temper and I said nothing until that day she accused me of making obscene phone calls to her home. In sixth grade the teacher ridiculed me for my Canadian accent. School was not enjoyable at all and my grades fell after we moved here. I enjoyed and did well at school in Canada, was double-promoted twice … that is why I had just turned 17 years old when I graduated high school. I did not enjoy school until the last year to be honest and you could be dumb as a rock and still graduate from our high school and that is the truth.
That is interesting about the nun’s absence from the classroom. I have two friends who are former nuns, both are married and neither of them talk about their time in the convent. One friend was an elementary school teacher at a Catholic school. She went to college after leaving the convent. Also I used to work for an attorney who had been a former priest.
Thank you for the Walt Whitman quote Tom … I aim to read his writing someday after retirement and when I have more time.
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Teachers who are cruel to particular students have neurological maladies. That nun who was our 8th-grade teacher always talked to us as if we were a bunch of idiots and as if she was somehow the great intellectual. Damn, we were kids!
A lot of us go through a lot of suffering, abuse, and insanity as young students. It is a real shame. Things could be so loving and different. When i was a teacher of the multiply handicapped, i always talked to my students as equals; i never talked down to them. But most people don’t care enough. In grade school, there was a mentally retarded student named George. Most everyone called him Crazy George and would encourage him to do nutty things. But i was always very respectful to him; i was the only student who would help him with his lessons.
Yes, read Walt Whitman when you get a chance! Leaves of Grass is a rare jewel of real treasures. Beyond the sexual things and all the wording describing nature, there is a lot of precious insight about time, truth, and spirituality. 🙂
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I hated school to be honest and my grades dropped like a rock. Why a teacher would do those things is ridiculous. This seventh grade teacher would leave the class (presumably to smoke or take a break) and the same group of us students had her for history, English, study hall and homeroom – 3 1/2 hours a day. Every time she left the class, she asked someone (teacher’s pet) to monitor “talking, gum-chewing and spitballs” and report to her. She’d return and my name was on all the lists – the only person who committed these acts. Really?! I did none of those things – I was very withdrawn as people made fun of my accent (Canadian) and precise way of speaking (Oxford English). She say “out in the hall” and she would take her paddle. She made sure to leave the door open and paddle me in front of the door and everyone inside would laugh about it.
My parents would have had a fit so I never told them, just took it. Then the alleged phonecalls to her home and leaving nasty messages on her phone – I didn’t do that – ever. I had been at dinner with my parents at a neighbor’s home on that Sunday night. My father was called at work and it was not nice when he arrived at the school. The teacher was suspended the rest of the school year – it was in the Spring, so no big deal there, but she had married during the course of the school year, was pregnant and just went on an early maternity leave and returned in the Fall semester, but I never had her again.
We had mentally retarded students at the same school and kids made fun of them and had them do things in the cafeteria – I witnesses it. But because the kids used to beat me up sometimes on the way home, I did not associate with anyone there. It was not nice what they did or said – I always grew up learning to be respectful of everyone, not just my elders, my peers too.
I have a lot to read when I’m retired Tom. Not only books that my mom/I bought together and she read shortly thereafter – they are all in Rubbermaid tubs in the basement, but when I read the list of the 100 classic books of all time, I realized the quality of my high school education.
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You sure went through a lot in school. My wife, Marla, was beaten up a lot by students when she was in school. It makes one wonder how any of us got through sanely!
Recommended reading is:
Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman
The Complete Poems of E. E. Cummings
The Complete Poems of T.S. Eliot
Wallace Stevens Poetry
The Flight of the Eagle by J. Krishnamurti
Wholeness and the Implicit Order by Professor David Bohm
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I loved school before we moved here and was on the honor roll in Canada – moved here in ’66, bullied by teachers and classmates. Bullied by words and physically too – sixth grade teacher made me read to the class and he laughed at my Canadian pronunciation of words, and spelling “Canadian-style” so he laughed, they tittered over it, kids beat me up on the way home. Hid it from my parents … they broke my glasses and I said I fell at recess, and I got in trouble for being careless. I finally came clean with everything after the teacher who was suspended for bullying me. They said “why didn’t you tell us?” I said “because you’d go to the school and I’d be bullied by words or actions even more, that’s why!” That was dumb logic on my part – should have told them and they could have moved me to a Catholic school where that nonsense would not likely have happened; although I am Catholic, I
have not been to Catholic church, made my communion or confirmation, did catechism, none of that, so I don’t know if I could have “fit in” without the proper religious background.
I can sympathize with Marla … I don’t know how we did it either. We are stronger for having dealt with bullying – when I hear the media talk about bullying these days, it is as if it is a brand-new thing – hardly! We have had three or four kids in recent years commit suicide based on a lack of friends on Facebook or because people taunt them to classmates using Facebook or other social media platforms. They can’t take it and that’s the end of their life. It is a sad world we live in.
Yesterday someone in Michigan died of EEE – it was NOT the 14-year old girl who is fighting for her life with this disease. Be wary in the woods, even with the spray. I will make my way around some parks the rest of this year, but none of them woodsy … enough to worry about without a mosquito bite. By the time we have a hard freeze and kill them off (hopefully), the deer will be prancing around after one another in the rural areas and you have to worry about car/deer crashes!
Thank you for the recommendations Tom, I will tuck these titles away – I am sorry to admit that I took so many literature classes in school and never read any of these authors … no poetry was read, none of the classics as I mentioned the other day.
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What a sadly mentally sick school you went to! Sad to read about. I was never fond of school; i always felt that i learned way more on my own… which is still so true today! In public grade school, we had, in the fourth grade, a new student who came in from Germany, and he couldn’t speak any English. None of the kids made fun of him; they didn’t even make fun of his accent. I befriended him and helped him learn words.
Then my parents moved me to the Catholic school, starting at grade 5. I was ostracized because i was an outsider. The kids were not “nice” and the nuns were all terribly off of their rockers. At the same time, my parents were always fighting and my father was extremely cruel. So i quickly learned how to think for myself and go beyond all the madness. Still doing it to this day… and in a way, maybe all of their insanity was a blessing in disguise. Transcending their barbarism is largely what it’s all about! 🙂
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That was kind of you to help the new kid out Tom and of course the other kids would make fun of him – kids are so cruel, and that is why it pains me to hear that “oh the kids today are bullied and have it so bad” – what you and I went thru and me with the paddlings as well … that never should have happened and compared to these teens who endure bullying just because they are taunted as they do not have a certain amount of Facebook friends or “likes” and for that you take your life because of it is just a concept I cannot wrap my head around. I think we were braver to have taken these hard knocks, but it is a bravery I could have done without.
There is a walk against bullying in a few weeks – every year I tell myself I will go. It costs nothing to walk but you can purchase a tee-shirt if you want. It is corporate sponsored in honor of a teen who was taunted on Facebook and took her life. I feel for these kids and peer pressure – I really do, but everything these days with peer pressure is over the top and it is sad to witness it.
My parents also fought like cats and dogs and my father was hateful and spewing vitriol every chance he could … hearing him say “I wish you’d drop dead!” never failed to haunt me then, nor now. I never understood how they got together. A hot head and a mild-mannered person. They married at 27, had me at 30 … it was like that for as long as I can remember – the culmination of their fights was when he walked out on her at age 58, leaving her penniless as he took all the money out of a bank and annuity fund and fled to his native Germany. That was in 1984. Thankfully the house was paid for. Those type of things, though a bitter pill to swallow, especially when you read of people’s wonderful family lives, has made you as well as me stronger for it. That’s the only positive takeaway we get from those years.
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Tough times for sure. I remember when my father lit my mother’s hair on fire. I remember how the deranged nuns would tell us (kids) that we would go straight to fiery hell if we did not get to confession fast enough (during the Cuban Missle Crisis), and, yes, the kids were all fearfully walking around with rosaries in their pockets. But i didn’t.
I truly feel sorry for people who were brought up merely in sweet, ordinary, stable families. They never questioned enough. They merely fit in and went along with the tide. They merely went along with the ride (throughout their entire lives). They merely accepted the standard traditions and patterns… and they ended up being (for the most part) mere unthinking clones. I questioned adult values early on. I perceived things that they didn’t want me to perceive. I continue to do so. Real living isn’t blind acceptance. It is so much beautifully more!
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You may have topped me Tom … that is beyond cruel what happened to your poor mother. I have no words for people who go out of their way to make life so miserable for others. My grandfather was like that to my grandfather and I understand my great grandfather did likewise. I just listened to this song – very interesting lyrics and I’ve never heard this son before. Thank you.
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They were a musical group that i discovered while in college and they really helped me to continue to perceive beyond the ordinary. 🙂
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Linda:
Sandmere place huh? My last address in Oakville was 355 Bartos Drive. I just looked things up on Google Earth. My house was the old one with the long driveway immediately next to Oakwood School. There is a story about that long driveway. The house I wrote about was on Dean Avenue and the park is now called Trafalgar Park, now two huge ball diamonds. The area is still there. The memory work you did about running is interesting. I was going to mention in my blog that when I was a kid there were just as many bad guys and perverts as today, we just had a different skew on things.
You lived near Hopedale Mall, I have more stories that place, about Appleby College, life on the fourth line at one time. In fact I wrote a book about my childhood recounting my chronically dysfunctional parents and all the other memories, as many good as possible. you can have a copy if you like.
Fred
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Fred, what is really interesting about my childhood home is that when I got online and discovered Google maps, one of the first things I did was check out 497 Sandmere Place. I knew I could not be wrong on the address but my house was not pinpointed. It was a driveway, between two houses. I zoomed in yet it was not familiar. I remembered the house but also have several pictures of myself in front of the house over the years. I moved the directional arrows to look at the houses on each side – that was not the street I remembered and I was 10 years old when I left so remembered enough. I discovered a site on Facebook called “Oakville Memories” (they have several FB sites, I think that’s the one I found). I discovered a classmate that stood next to me in that kindergarten picture. We chitchatted and she no longer lived there, but I reached out to find out what happened to my street and if it was a Google error. There was a guy who lived in Oakville his entire life and was an IT guy who worked from his house. He made “house calls” and was very familiar with the area. He went over and took some photos of the “new 497 Sandmere Place” and messaged me – we moved there in 1958 and it was a brand-new subdivision – no grass, all red clay, gravel roads. He said they razed every house in the entire cul-de-sac and built huge, two-story homes in their stead. They were bungalows on Sandmere. He was also thoughtful and sent me not only pictures, but also a realtor’s recent video walk-thru of the house. I was just amazed. When I lived there and was young, there was a meadow and creek at the end of the street – we played there all the time, the neighborhood kids and me. Then a year or two before we moved to the States, they built Hopedale Plaza. It is now enclosed and a big mall and called Hopedale Mall. I knew that from comments in the Facebook site. I followed the Oakville site for awhile but I’ve been removed there for so long I really don’t recall their memories or anything they comment on. I wish we’d stayed there when I see how beautiful the city is. I don’t remember many streets there – the Third Line and Spears Road. At Spears Road I think there was a wooded area there as I remember going for leaf samples for school (elementary school collecting/pressing leaves). Your book sounds interesting but I have not picked up a book in years to be honest, not even read the AARP magazines which languish in a big pile. And many of them arrived before blogging really took off. We knew everyone in the neighborhood and most of the kids were my age, or a year younger or older at most. I was heartbroken to leave there, as I loved school. My parents, especially my mom, drilled into my head about running away and stranger danger from the time I was young. We were always with other kids in those days. But yes, there have always been bad guys and perverts around.
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Like you, most of the stranger danger advice I received revolved around scream loudly and then run away. Maybe it was enough back then? I love your photo of little you in your plaid dress. That’s a classic.
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My parents did drill that into my head – scream and run away, but I can’t say I was ever far from their sight or was always with my playmates outside the house, so there was safety in numbers. It probably was enough back then and you are younger than me – I’m sure there were predators back in 1961 too. Thank you Ally. The plaid dress, and the little black velvet bow – bet it could be a classic look even now. I was laughing when I saw how I spelled my name … my mom worked on spelling and vocabulary words with me, and making me memorize my name, etc., but did she just assume I could spell my name? I spelled it phonetically. 🙂
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Linda: When I was last there, there was a lot that changed and I had the same problem with finding places. For a while a while we lived in some old apartments on Felan Avenue, across from the Lion’s swimming pool next to the arena. They were grotty old tenements then, and I see they’re still standing as is the arena. Oakville was a beautiful town, in places, and while I have happy memories, there are plenty of dark ones for me, including the horribler long, raw Great Lakes winters which you still endure. Also, I came from the wrong side of the tracks and there were a lot of snotty upper class brats who made life a misery. I was on my own, on and off, before I was fourteen and so I was too busy surviving to have a normal teenage-hood and I got the hell out of there days after I graduated. Still, there are warm and fuzzy memories as well.
Fred
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We left in 1966 and stayed at my grandmother’s house every time we returned to Toronto. Every few years we’d drive to Oakville to visit a friend of my mom’s that lived on Weir Avenue. We went to the old neighborhood a few times, but it was during the day and everyone must have been a work and all the “kids” were like me, all adults now. So we just stopped going back altogether. I don’t remember anything about the business section/downtown of Oakville except an ice-cream/candy store and a bank my parents would go to. My mom got her hair done at a small shop and the hairdresser, Peggy, was the hair stylist for the funeral home next door – she was nice, but it gave me the creeps a little. And there was Coronation Park. That’s all I remember – most of my time was spent at the meadow, or the neighborhood with pals. I used to go to the ice arena on Saturday afternoons with my father. I did a post on how I hooked up with a girl from my kindergarten class. She sent the class photo – I did not have it handy at that time. I have since scanned in, but not organized all my photo albums and scrapbooks. That will be a massive project to put them into JPEGs – in some cases, there are three or four or more photos on one album page and I had to scan like that and they need to be separated into individual shots.
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I guess because I lived in a small town and always had older sisters around, I didn’t get this talk. The way things are today, every child needs to know this information no matter where they live. I really enjoyed the “squirrel tale” and the school photos you shared.
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I wish I lived in a small town now, that is for sure Rebecca. I think today’s kids grow up much faster than I did back then. Ours was more an age of innocence that is not found now. I saw that timid squirrel and I thought it was a perfect way to tell this story. He was wary and apprehensive and in the animal world, he likely got the same words of caution from his mom. The school pictures are fun to look at and I was amazed that with my mom sitting down with me to practice spelling that I wondered how I could botch my last name so badly!
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Even small towns can be dangerous places nowadays. I very much agree that the age of innocence that we enjoyed is gone. Parents have to be ever watchful. Your squirrel illustration was perfect!
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Thank you Rebecca. I long for the olden days or small town living – it would be a more enjoyable way to live. That squirrel was so intimidated by me – a “newbie” but I swear I could see its heart beating in its chest, yet hunger made it scramble down the fence and “give me a chance” though I think it knew it was risky business.
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I did not get that talk from my parents, we lived in the country with no one around and never played in the front yard near the road, but I remember getting the speech about strangers from the teacher in school. I have one bad memory of getting a ride home from grade one and getting in a car with the parents of a boy in our class, and his dad let my cousin out who lived next door, but drove right past my house. (Normally we walked home, but the grade one’s got out half an hour early, and there were only 3 of us in grade one). I started to cry, and he turned around and started laughing and said, oh I thought you got out at your cousins? So he backed the car up and I got out and ran into the house. They moved away shortly afterwards, but I always suspected he did it deliberately, joking at the expense of a 6 year old, but it certainly cured me of ever accepting a ride from anyone, even if my cousin or someone else knew them! We were cautioned about strangers, a fairly remote possibility back then, but think of how many more things kids today have to worry about. Even back in the 80’s most people wouldn’t have questioned an offer from a police officer.
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I remember we kids played at each other’s houses, but truthfully, we were never INSIDE those houses. We played outside. A few friends had swing sets or if was just the girls, we played outside with our dolls and pushed them in doll carriages, or if there were boys outside playing, we rode bikes or flew kites in the meadows, caught frogs, tadpoles … we were all around the same age. If it was bad weather our parents kept us inside at our own house. Even my best friend next door, also named Linda, was not in the house, nor was I over there. We played outside all the time, even in the Winter. I don’t recall my mom calling up a neighbor to say I was going out to play – if it was cold, she bundled me up and I was sent outside “to get the stink off you and get some fresh air” … I think the only time I was in other kid’s houses was for a birthday party and that was it when I was that young.
That was a cruel joke to play on you – why do that do a little kid as you were obviously traumatized. I can only figure that there were predators even back then and my parents were reading/hearing about it on the news. I probably made myself out to be empty-headed in this post, which I was not, but I was concerned about my dress – paid money for it, didn’t want it ruined. I was practical … I never gave it a second thought and police were to be trusted then (and today as well) so why not (although it was unusual and he was young, probably just out of the academy to be honest and doing a good turn). When I worked at the diner, the police came into Carters three times a day as we prepared the prisoners’ meals for years …. they placed their order, we fixed it and had a set time for them to pick it up. They came in and hade coffee and a donut and chit-chatted and left. Our diner gave the police free coffee and donuts and a discount on a full meal. The detectives came in regularly, the police came in when they were off duty. The police rotated their shifts, so they worked all three shift times, so at some point in time, every police officer on the force came into the restaurant depending on when they worked the day shift. When I was hit while riding my bike in 1976, the officers investigating this “hit and run” came into the diner to keep me advised on the progress of finding the woman. After I left the diner when I graduated from school, I’d see police officers cruising by when I was waiting on the bus, or getting off it or when I was driving … they’d turn on the siren and wave “hi” … I just never had a second thought that day … til my mom jumped all over me.
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That background explains your decision a bit more, but I wonder if he was maybe just attempting to ask you out on a date!? That’s interesting about the police coming into the diner for breaks and to pick up the prisoners meals. You wouldn’t see that today either, at least not frequenting the same place. I occasionally see them at Tim Horton’s but certainly not regularly. They are so busy dealing with all the crime and constant drug overdoses I suspect they usually don’t get breaks/meals. As for my childhood episode, it was traumatizing enough for me to remember it, as I think even at 6 we had been told not to ever get in a strangers car, and the only boy in our class was a stranger, as they rented a house up the road, so were not people any of the neighbours knew, and they moved shortly after. He was a dirty snotty nosed kid, but I went as my cousin got in and seemed to know them and it was only a short distance. We never played inside other people’s houses either – the very few times I was in someone’s house in older grades for a skating party or something etc, it was very unusual to see how other peoples houses were inside. You usually only had relatives over to your house. Certainly not like today with all those playdates. I guess maybe it’s not safe for kids to play outdoors unsupervised. I don’t have many kids in my subdivision, but there are quite a few in my mothers as it is close to a school, but I seldom see anyone playing outside when I go for walks there, plus they have a big empty green space of a park which is never used other than for dog walking. I went for the Plein Air painting session today – it was very cold this morning with a north wind so we didn’t go until later, 11am, as my mom was not going to paint. We visited with some fellow artists, and I took pictures of the flowers/gardens – hopefully enough for a post, but the most exciting thing was I saw a white squirrel. We had broken for lunch and one of the ladies mentioned it so I went over and tried to take some pictures, but I had left my zoom lens camera in the car when I went back to get our picnic lunch, so had to use my cell phone camera, which is not great for zoom. I’ll have to google white squirrels as it is not something I have ever heard of. Will probably use it in the post as an antidote to all the color in the gardens! I immediately thought of you and Parker. Have you ever seen a white squirrel?
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I think he was much younger than me Joni, so that’s why I think he was being nice and that was about five or so years since I left the diner, so I had never met him and he did not have a partner in the car who knew me. It was the same thing with the City workers – they came to the diner twice a day for their breaks … they had coffee/donuts/toast – they did not get free food or drinks but about 20 would come in at a time and took up all the stools around the diner’s two horseshoe areas and behind the grill area … the regular customers knew not to come in at 10:30 or 2:30 as it was very busy I’d see those guys for years afterward and they’d drive down my street and wave. It was nice and cool yesterday and today/tomorrow as well – it was 73 in the house this morning. How exciting – a white squirrel and I’ve never seen one of those … that will make a good post. Now if you had to sketch it, look how easy it would be. 🙂 I follow a woman photographer on Twitter and she posts pics taken at Kensington Metropark about 25 miles from me. There is a white deer with two fawns (regular color fawns) … she is absolutely beautiful and stands out in the wooded areas because she is so light colored.
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While I didn’t get a really good close-up, when I cropped and edited it, you can tell it’s a squirrel. Critter update: My grasscutter killed the vole today – we were standing talking beside the back deck as I had missed him last week and we saw it come around the corner and start to dig under the deck to try to escape – I’ll spare you the details – I could not watch myself. I’ll deal with the wasp problem tomorrow, as the guy has to call me back. Was out all day and am exhausted, too tired to do REader.
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The owl I used from the Nature Center was not really clear, but it was my first owl so I went with it. It was hiding in a dark corner of its enclosure so all you saw were the eyes. I hope to see an owl some day. I look every time I’m in the woods.
A big “Like” for the dead vole and I’m like you … I like nature but there is a time and place for it and when it intrudes on our personal space, well not so much. I’m sure it was gory with the vole, but now you don’t have to worry about it smelling underneath the deck – one down, and now the wasps. I hope they can shed some light on that issue and get rid of them for you, without a lot of pesticide and for good. I seem to be going nowhere with Reader … I did comments and then about 90 minutes or so in Reader which put me to two days behind instead of four days behind, caught up with a few friends via e-mail, one in Facebook and suddenly it was 10:00 p.m. When do I get other things done at night? It doesn’t happen anymore and in the morning, I check in at work, at e-mail, Facebook (one friend only uses FB to communicate) or read the news and crime reports, wander over here and I look at the time and its 7:30 a.m. – granted the sun is suddenly getting up so much later, but still. I used to get laundry done in the morning before walking, other tasks. It is quite chilly here … was 72 in the house. Back to 80s next week again … I’m happy with the 70s, but I’m a spoilsport.
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Very nice post! You don’t work on a career as a writer?😊
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Thank you John – I like writing about memories from the past sometimes … I thought of this incident based on that wary squirrel and tied it in to the beginning of school. No, I don’t work as a writer but I did graduate with a degree in print journalism (1978) but the market was flooded with journalists (everyone wanted to be an investigative reporter like Woodward and Bernstein who wrote about the Watergate scandal) and I could not find a job. I started at an ad agency hoping to work my way up the ladder, but we lost our major account (Chrysler/Plymouth) when Lee Iacocca fired our agency and we had a new account and a lot of people left, so did I and I’ve been a legal secretary for almost 40 years now.
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Love your early school day pics. How cute! So thankful your cop car ride brought you home safe and sound. I was worried as you began that it might not end so well. There are still good people in this world, even if we have to search to find them sometimes. 😊
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Thanks Mia – glad you liked the pictures. Two years ago I took the entire Thanksgiving weekend to scan in all the photo albums and scrapbooks thinking that treasure trove might be fun to use in blog posts and I have had some fun using them. As you see, these childhood shots are black-and-white, thus giving my age away. 🙂 But I said it was in 1961, so I was five years old. Yes, I wanted to keep readers in suspense … and I would not make light of stranger danger as it is scary with young kids nowadays. The police officer all those years later was merely being kind as it was really raining and boy did I seize that opportunity. My mom looked at me like I had lost my mind!
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Dear Miss “Always Be Careful”…………………………….I enjoyed your story from your long ago……………………and the pictures of the “Too Careful”squirrel
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Thanks Ann Marie – I’m glad you enjoyed that story and I thought you might like the part about starting kindergarten since you were an elementary school teacher for many years. That squirrel was very wary – either he was really smart, or his mom taught him well! He made me smile watching his antics – he was prudent, but peanuts were a lure as well so he must’ve been hungry.
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The school bells are tolling. And I am dancing a jig outside my old high school! 🙂 You were an adorable first grader (or was it kindergartener?), Linda. I must look through my mom’s old photos to see if I can find any school pictures of me. I don’t know if I would have the courage to post them, though.
I was never good at math or spelling either. I am still a terrible speller. I don’t think I could even write a blog if it weren’t for programs like Grammarly. My mom (a former English teacher) would be horrified.
That new squirrel’s mom must have made quite an impression on him about “stranger danger”. You will just have to become his friend, then you will not be a stranger.
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You should be dancing a jig – your high school years were likely full of much more learning than mine and then you went on to teach at the high school level … both jig-worthy events!
Glad you liked my pictures Laurie and they were both taken on the very first day of kindergarten. I don’t think the class picture was the same day – I might have just had the same dress on. I spent a lot of time scanning in pictures over Thanksgiving a few years ago. Most of the pictures need to be tweaked as there may be multiple photos on one page, but I have been having fun using them in posts. It was one of the best things I’ve ever done because the photo albums and scrapbooks were too difficult to reach in boxes at the bottom of a seldom-used closet, with more stuff piled on top of the boxes, thus I never looked at the pictures. I’ve at least organized them by family, vacations and friends to sort down the massive amount of images I have amassed.
I am surprised you’re not good in math due to teaching chemistry. I was okay with math until I got to algebra, then geometry – they never made sense to me and where would you ever use them? Thankfully I did not have to take trigonometry or calculus. You write so well, I’d never know you are a terrible speller. My mom sat with me for hours, but obviously we didn’t practice my last name – I was shocked how I wrote my own last name. Oh well.
That squirrel learned somewhere not to trust humans, his mom or his common sense, but the peanuts lured him down and I was surprised as he glared at me for the longest time as if to say “why are you coming into my safe little world and making me make a decision on your credibility and whether you’ll hurt me or not.” I’ll need to work on him a little more. This morning – no squirrels at the Park and I hope there were no Cooper’s Hawks that were the root of the absentee problem.
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That’s exactly where my photos are, Linda – at the bottom of a seldom-used closet. My mom did a scrapbook shortly before she had a stroke at age 87. I would like to dig that up and look at it – she documented several generations of family history.
I met Bill in calculus class in college. I was so lost and unsure of what I was doing. He helped me get through that first class. I had to take 3 semesters of calculus. I don’t remember any of it now! I can’t imagine how I did it.
I’m sure you will win that little squirrel over to be your friend!
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I scanned in everything except my journalism string book that I had from my years of working on the college newspaper. I never looked at those photos – it was much too difficult to get to them and besides the photo albums were starting to fall apart. The sides which were held together by three posts, like a binder, the binding just fell apart and the plastic overlay was getting yellowish and not sticking anymore. Not all albums and my mom’s family albums and the early traveling albums were fine since picture corners were used. They were Hallmark albums and guaranteed not to yellow or alter the integrity of the photos, so I wasn’t pleased. You should look at your photos/albums and see if time has been kind to them Laurie. I was shocked to pick up an album and have it just fall apart like that. I put the pics on Shutterfly, then left the photos in my photo files, but I copied all the album photos onto a flash drive and put it in the safety deposit box – one day I’ll complete the project but it will take a long time to do so.
I am glad I’m not the only one who is not swift in math. That little squirrel was on the perimeter path this morning – it was cool and crisp (no kidding). Got five miles in.
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That’s a shame about your albums, Linda. I wonder if there is any way to get them restored? I have a bunch of my photos on Flickr (my son used to work there as a software engineer) and some on GooglePhoto too. My Brother-in-law still prints all of his pictures.
Nice miles today!
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I know – I am bummed about it Laurie because if I wanted to show someone those albums, I could not even do that as they are in such bad shape. I spent a long time compiling the actual albums.
When I got a laptop in 2009, I bought an HP printer/scanner – I could not get the printer configured, but did the scanner with no issue. (I don’t use a printer for my job – everything is done by e-mail by using PDFs.] I joined Facebook in 2009 and decided to scan in some photos to put there. The albums were fine then – then in 2017 I got an Epson photo scanner – went into the boxes and was horrified how the integrity of the albums had gone downhill. I can’t take the overlay off as I’m afraid that the plastic will ruin the top of the pictures underneath.
I scanned many photos in with the overlay in place. I just put them back in the boxes as I really don’t know what else to do with about eight of the albums. I used a separate album for each trip and have three albums of family and friends. So having them stored on Shutterfly, I can look at them there like you do on Flickr and Google Photo and have a flash drive in the safety deposit box. They are probably safer than being in the bottom of the closet in the event of fire. Does your brother-in-law print the pics himself or through a service, like CVS or Walgreen?
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My brother-in-law goes to CVS to get his photos printed. He was always a good photographer. He takes some wonderful candid shots of the whole family. He has Parkinson’s disease now, so his mobility is limited. The photos are a good thing for him to do.
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Yes, the photography will keep your brother active and with digital photography, you don’t worry about a lot of missed shots and fretting over the cost. I can’t tell you how many missed shots I come home with. I used CVS when I still had my pocket camera which I used all the time and saved the 35 mm for trips only.
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It’s amazing how many more photos I take now that I don’t use film anymore.
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Me too and I have replaced my camera batteries in my compact digital again this year – and I have two batteries and rotate them. I replaced them in 2017 (both) too. I take a ton of pics and it takes me forever to sort through them sometimes. The days are getting closer for your trip – we’re having a storm so I won’t be getting much more done in Reader tonight and we have storms the next two nights, so safe travels to you and Bill in case I’m not here much – what a fun trip you’ll have.
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Adorable! That’s what you were on your first day of school! It’s interesting to read about other people’s experiences as children. We had to ride our bicycles about 4 miles one one from first grade until around the fifth grade. That’s when we got buses. We lived in a very rural area near the Black Forest. The German school system was always good and I believe it still is.
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Sabine, yes, that was my first day of kindergarten and I was in the front and then the backyard. I had another picture but I was in the shade and it was not clear. The class picture was likely not the first day and I just had the same dress on, but maybe they did assemble us, but likely not as we had enough nervous kids on the first day. That was good riding your bike to school, but that’s a long way to pedal when you were so young … but you kids stayed healthy doing that. I understood from my father that the German school system was very good. So was the Canadian school system. They double-promoted kids if they could pass a test and you skipped grades where the teacher deemed them just “repeat grades, you were not learning a lot of new things” so most of the class was able to advance. So I graduated high school having just turned 17 years old and was the youngest one in my graduating class (613 kids).
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Grade 1 and 2 we did in one school year. Of course we had far fewer vacation days than kids have here in the US> The bike rides were okay, except in the winter and when it rained. It did help us stay healthier and also in touch with the outdoors. One of the shortcuts led through cherry and apple orchards! Yum!
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I think that’s a good idea skipping a grade, especially if it is “repeat material” – I understand that for us it was because in Canada there is Grade 13 which is unlike here. That way the kids would be younger to start college. When I used to work downtown for decades, the kids used to walk to school, passing me at the bus stop. I never see any kids walking now so I suspect they are getting a ride to school, likely as parents are afraid to let them walk alone due to predators. Your schools had the right idea.
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Yes, times sure have changed! Everybody is just too busy to slow down a bit!
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I really enjoyed reading this. We were brought up with the same rules, although now they don’t tell the kids to go to a security guy but a mother. You definitely were trusting! I feel like we’re all a lot more wary nowadays, and yet the wariness is warranted. It’s not that the world is less safe now, more that we are aware and educated to the dangers. Although in lots of ways it’s not as simple.
Great use of those pictures.
Love, light and glitter
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I’m glad you enjoyed it Ellie – I like to look back sometimes and could definitely tie this story into this squirrel being so wary of me – I said to him I’m harmless … unfortunately he does not understand English and I don’t “speak squirrel”. 🙂
You make a valid point of course – yes we are more educated to the dangers as kids were not reading the newspaper, or watching the news in those days because life was pretty carefree: school, homework, time with friends and a little TV time. I know I wasn’t aware of the news of the world at that age. My parents always discussed the news after watching the TV news or reading the newspaper, but I paid no attention to what they said at that time until I was older and when current events like President Kennedy’s death in 1963, or the deaths of Martin Luther King and Bobby Kennedy in 1968, as well as the moon landing in 1969, were something everyone talked about. I would not want to have kids or be a kid these days.
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The kids in my culture are unaware too. They’re taught more though.
I hope you get to learn squirrel. Its probably a fascinating language
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Yes, because the world was not as crazy as now. I wish I could take credit for saying I don’t know squirrel, but in “Frosty the Snowman” the rabbit was trying to tell the magician something and he said something to effect “I don’t speak fluent rabbit.” That line just made me laugh.
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🙂 it’s cool.
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What a wonderful “Blast from the Past” story Linda.
Did I ever tell you when I was young my dad went squirrel hunting and shot a baby squirrel through the ear. It stunned the squirrel and my dad brought it home, built a cage and it became a pet. I hated it because they put it on my back and it’s nails were so sharp it hurt…lol They finally let it go.
I definitely know school is in. I have my 2 grandkids for a week and have to drive them to and from school….two different schools to boot! An exhausting week but fun.
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Glad you enjoyed this post Diane – I have another “Blast from the Past” story bubbling around in my head for later in the month or maybe next month.
I’ve got a lot of pictures I took in July and August when I was still busy at work and got behind with posting also due to my finger and house mishaps. I cannot seem to keep caught up in Reader anymore … a day or two behind.
No, you never mentioned the squirrel story That is a cute story and I guess if it was a pet, it did not associate its injury with your dad in the least. I’m glad your dad was able to nurse it back to its near former state to release it into the wild again. Their nails are very sharp and I had Parker try to scale my bare leg last Summer when I was taking pictures and did not feed him fast enough – he eyed the mesh bag where I keep the Ziploc bag so my hands are free to take pictures, then I didn’t unzip it so he thought my leg was a tree and he proceeded to go up. I was not scared so much as worried his nails might be dirty and he’d scratch me on the bare legs, so I hurried up and dumped half the bag on the ground. From now on, I don’t dilly-dally when he is dancing around me. 🙂
Yes, you have your grandchildren now for school and to fix lunches – and you help with homework no doubt too. Your life is full and retirement suits you to a “T”! P.S. – Do you need to cater “snack day” too? They never had “snack day” when I was a kid.
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No snack day as of now. I sent a snack with them every day. I picked up my daughter from the airport today but she works weekends. They go home Sunday night and will be back on Thursday night…lol
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That’s good – don’t be volunteering too much!
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When I read your mom’s advice, it reminded me of a book I had bought for our kids to read to learn the stranger-danger stuff. It’s sad that no matter when we were born, we have to be concerned with such stuff. You were very smart to change up what you carried in your bag after that. I’m glad it was a nice officer that gave you a ride home. Your squirrel photos are grand – he’ll warm up to you next time, I’d run too at the sound of the weed-wacker!
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Yes Shelley – she drilled it into my head at the same time I had to memorize my name/address/phone number – all these years later remembering the phone number. :):) I was lucky it was a nice officer, because I never gave it a second thought and climbed right into the car. Vanity and stupidity I guess. Glad you liked the squirrel photos too – he was so wary of me and eager for peanuts he just cast all doubt and wariness aside. That equipment was really loud – no wonder they disappeared.
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Long term memories are special! That’s great you remembered it. I’d have to think harder to remember mine. We’ve all got those moments to treasure – vanity and stupidity combined. Your next visit will be better I hope!
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Your trust and connection with the squirrels is Inspiring and love the schooldays memories and the photos of you are so cute
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I do get a kick out of interacting with them Yvette. Right now they are in “preparing for Winter mode” … they often don’t eat a peanut right away, but they’ll hide it first. They’ve been doing that for a few months, leading me to think that is their way of saying “this Winter will be tough!”
Glad you like the schooldays memories too – as an only child, my parents documented everything that happened through the years to their only child. I got my hair cut that Summer because I always squirmed and squealed when my mom brushed my hair and made a ponytail – she threatened “one more squirm and I’m cutting that ponytail off” – yep, it happened!
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🙂
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I don’t remember getting those types of warnings from my mother but it seemed that we (the kids in the neighborhood) always went everywhere in packs so maybe she didn’t feel it was necessary. Cute story about the cop giving you a ride home. I laughed out loud at what your mother said about using your head for something more than hanging your earrings on. Too funny!
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I think back when we were growing up there were more little kids around and we did not have to be the same age, give or take a couple of years, we all just played together and did roam as a pack … boys and girls were down at the meadow or riding bikes as a group; girls were pushing around our dolls in their prams down the street, playing jump rope, Chinese jump rope too. Yes, my mom had a quick wit and sharp tongue sometimes and after she said this when I came home, I have to say it did give me something to think about, even though he looked to be a brand-new officer looking to help out a girl in need. 🙂 That was one of my mom’s favorite expressions! Glad I gave you a giggle Janis.
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