It was a perfect spring today. Lots of sunshine, a slight breeze and a blue sky made me think about hanging wash out to dry. At my grandmother’s house in Pennsylvania, it was one of the few chores that I really enjoyed. Fighting stiff sheets in the breeze while trying not to swallow the wooden clothespins grew into a talent. I loved grabbing the pins and stuffing them into the swinging bag. My cousins and I would race to the finish. In Manhattan, we had a clothesline strung from our fifth floor apartment across the airshaft to a friend’s apartment in the opposite building.The clothes dried, but not much could be said for their cleanliness, and if you missed grabbing a pair of underwear, they were lost forever. To my knowledge, no one had ever safely navigated the bottom of the air shaft. It would be like an archeological dig.These photos taken at the children’s garden in the Memphis Botanic Garden sum up the experience and beauty for me. I think we’d help ourselves and our planet if we resurrected wash lines.
Tag Archives: childhood memories
While grabbing materials in class for a project , I came across a set of jacks.When a student asked what they were , I stood stunned for a moment. One or two other students explained it was a game. For me, as a child , raging jacks tournaments on the stoop of my building , kept us busy for hours and out of traffic. The jacks we played with were tiny,silvery spoked metal pieces that nestled comfortably in the hand. These oversized plastic jacks made it difficult for me to demonstrate successfully as the jacks kept dropping from my fingers, but the kids loved it and begged for their turns to play. It was another method to improve visual spatial skills. As my kids alternately laughed and groaned in frustration,it made me wonder how many other childhood games and activities they miss out on while playing video games.
I can’t pass up an antique shop.My senses hit high alert when a shop is in the near vicinity. As I step through the door , the anticipation of surprises makes it difficult not to gallop down aisles. The other day while browsing, I came across this cabinet which reminded me of my grandmother. The pale green, the deco print on the windows, I was seven again and stacking carefully dried dishes in the cabinet with the rickety door.I browse for the memories.
Searching for remnants of the past while driving along forgotten roads and vanishing towns, we often find surprises.But you don’t have to always travel far from home to find memories. This sign still stands upright over a building where many Memphians spent a good part of their youth. I couldn’t resist posting it. For me it was metal clamp skates on the sidewalks of Manhattan. A group of us would race down the block and the noise muffled the traffic. No wonder so many doormen chased us!