Those were the days

With summer approaching and the day light lasting longer, there is much more time for fun and games.

I like to remember those days when I had all kinds of time -- those growing up days.

I lived in a small town in a neighborhood which had kids in most every house. We were fortunate -- we had a ball field in the only empty lot on the block. We didn't take too lightly to having kids from the other side of town using it or even taking part in our games. We weren't stuck up, I don't think, but we, after all, were owners of the ball field; it was our footsteps that had made the paths to the bases. And besides, the other kids in town had things on their side of town that we didn't and we didn't mess with their stuff.

There were more boys in the neighborhood and they treated us girls just like we were one of them. We thought that was just fine. They never made fun of us for not having the power to hit the baseball or kick the kickball as hard as them, in fact most of those boys, older than us girls, encouraged us. I am sure I never had any spectacular hits but I know I never went home crying because I was being bullied either.

That ball field was located under our water tower, in the same vicinity as the fire station which is where the noon (time to eat), 1 p.m. (get back to work) and 6 p.m. (supper time) whistle came from.

Our games usually started after supper - so as not to be disturbed by the shrill whistle - with whoever showed up. I don't recall how we picked the teams but because I don't, it must not have been a traumatic ordeal; it, too, must have been done fairly.

Sometimes, those boys would grow bored of the game and start climbing the ladders leading to the water tower; us girls only watched in amazement.

As night began to fall, and the ball game came to an end, we often moved across the street for our game of neighborhood hide-n-go-seek.

What great fun we had! There were some awesome hiding spots. It was always an awesome feeling to be able to make it back to base while the seeker was out searching. Often us seekers had to call in the hiders from those too-good-of-hiding spots.

Our parents never had to worry where we were -- we were always together in the neighborhood. We were always safe. When the games were over, we went to our respective homes and started all over again the following day.

It was good, so good.

I haven't seen any of those childhood friends for years now but with the coming of summer each year, I think of them and those carefree days when playing baseball and kickball and hide-and-seek was all that was on our agendas.

Wouldn't it be great to be able to go back to that and to that safety we had the privilege of growing up with.