ShellyC wrote about the children playing in the rain and the puddles and it reminded me of walking home from Primary School when I was about 9 years old. Joyce lived on the next farm and was a year older than me and we used to walk 2 miles home each afternoon along country roads. On wet winter days we often wore rubber boots to school and we would walk all the way home in the deep, water-worn gutters alongside the road. When the water banked up in some of the culverts we called them Eildon and Hume Weirs (named after two of the largest weirs in Victoria). One afternoon we found a puddle beside the road that we hadn't seen before. I made a dash to be the first to jump into it, however Joyce wanted to be first so she pushed ahead of me and rushed into the puddle. The puddle was actually a hole in the ground and the water came up over her knees, filling her rubber boots with water. I'm not sure whether Joyce was more upset about having wet boots and feet or me laughing at her.
A couple of weeks later the laugh was on me though. The big river bridge was under repair and there were several large steel girders lying on the ground nearby waiting to be moved into place on the bridge. It was a fine sunny morning but with a heavy frost. We were happily scuffling our way through the frost in our leather-soled shoes on our way to school. Seeing the girders lying on the ground was open invitation to walk along them, stamping our feet to see how much noise we could make. The combination of heavy frost, leather shoes, and the girders being on a slight slope was a recipe for disaster. I was merrily stamping my way down the first girder when my feet shot out from under me and I sat down with an almighty thump on cold, frosty steel. I'm sure I can still feel that pain as I write more than 50 years later.
Shrinking Shed
In case some of you thought that Richard was going to excavate the entire length of the deck, he is only working back to the second set of posts. The finished 'shed' will then measure 6 metres X 4 metres.
For those who asked - sorry, he is not for hire or loan, at least not until he's finished all the jobs around here, which should keep him occupied for the next 20 years or so.
Loved your story ~ reminded me of when I when was a tomboy and every time it rained (or so it seemed), I would be out playing in the normally torrential rain...
ReplyDeleteGeez they were fun times, now the memories are really coming back ~ My poor Mum...lol
Thanks for these stories, Alice. Isn't it funny how all kids LOVE puddles!
ReplyDeleteOuch!! I can imagine how that must have hurt!
ReplyDeleteChildhood memories - mine all seem to be of falling off my bike! LOL
I love puddles too! But oh dear, I was squirming even before I finished reading about your almighty thump. Yowsers.
ReplyDeleteOh, you poor thing...I'm sure that hurt.
ReplyDeleteWe all seem to love puddles all around the world. I don't think I've ever seen a child who won't try to step in one if one is around.
A great little story Alice! Ouch! And poor Joyce, squishing home in wet boots. Yuk! I guess you two gave each other some good laughs :)
ReplyDeleteMy brother and I (and friends) used to ride our bikes (or sometimes walk) quite a long way between home and school. Sure was healthier living! We had fun too and some great adventures.
I used to love walking home from school. My fondest memories are walking home for lunch when I was little. My mom always made such good lunches.
ReplyDeleteOh, darn! I can't have Richard for a few months? Guess I will have to tear up that "to do" list I had ready for him.
ReplyDeleteHi Alice
ReplyDeleteA lovely story reminding me of memories having stick races(about the same age) in Coffs Harbour in NSW along swollen gutters after heavy rain on the way to school.
Best wishes