My friends and I had plenty of things to do in our neighbourhood. On beautiful summer evenings we could knock on doors and find enough kids to play a good game of hide-and-seek. One friend had an indoor pool, another friend had a trampoline and one family owned horses. Unfortunately I couldn't swim and was scared of the horses but there was always something to do whether it be riding our bikes or exploring somebody's big backyard looking for a place to build a treehouse. (Everybody had a big back yard....it was great!) Many a dog-day summer afternoon, somebody's mom would invite us in for homemade cookies and fresh cow's milk and maybe we'd watch a little TV..... if there was anything good on the boob tube on one of the three channels that were available. We'd rather find something else to do because watching TV was usually done out of desperation and wasn't a favorite activity except on Saturday mornings.
Sometimes I would still wander about our ten-acre piece of land. I'd sit or lay by the stream that meandered through the property, chew on a piece of grass and watch birds, snakes, frogs, the sky or the clear trickling water.
Many of the neighbourhood kids had small motorcycles or three-wheelers to drive around and around the village. All I got was an old moped that needed the battery charged every 30 seconds so I dared not leave the yard with it. When I begged my dad for a motorcycle, he just looked at me over his glasses and shook his head. He knew I was becoming materialistic and he wasn't happy about it. Looking back, I am ashamed how I talked to my parents when I wanted what the neighbourhood kids had.
One day I was outside and watched two boys on a three-wheeler jump a driveway. The machine tipped over and one boy screamed bloody murder...he had broken his arm. Ummmm.....okay, I thought to myself, maybe I don't want one of those after all.
I had to settle for my new banana seat bicycle. I loved her. I don't have a picture of it but it was similar to the one shown here except for it was orange. Bright, metallic orange. No '70's childhood was complete without a bike like this. It was my only mode of transportation around Schanzenfeld.
It was technically my sister's bike. Now I'm not clear on the story here, but she wasn't living at home anymore and she definitely wasn't riding bikes--she was 17 years older than me and had her driver's license and her own car for several years--so I declared the bike mine and I drove this bad girl until it was too small for me. Or maybe it wasn't cool anymore, can't remember. Did I say that I loved this bike?
I had other bicycles after this one but this is the most memorable. Today, if the chain fell off my bike or my flared pant leg got caught in it as many times as it did back then, I would throw it in the junk pile. But I was totally in love. To add to the affair, my mom or dad bought me the tassels for the ape-hanger handlebars and the plastic thingies for the spokes. It was beautiful! When the neighbor's bull got loose or our pen of pigs escaped, this muscle bike never let me down AND I looked good riding it.
Things have clearly changed in Schanzenfeld since my wanderlust days. There's two schools in Schanzenfeld now, an elementary and a middle school. From when I was in grade one to grade four, we were packed into three huts until the brand new elementary was built. (The one-room school house previous to the huts had burnt down.)
Now streets have names and houses have numbers. There's even sidewalks lining the neighbourhood. But I still smile when I drive through Schanzenfeld because nobody can change or take away my memories.
I wonder if the young children living in that community now are having as much fun as we did?
Another lovely wander through your memories. Life was so simple....
ReplyDeleteSigh....yes it was
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