I recently just moved and we are juuuust getting to putting away the last of the boxes (since November!) The one thing that I love about spring cleaning or moving is going through all of my old stuff. This sparked a conversation with my FH and my sister-in-law (to be) about all of the things we used to do and play with as kids.
I can remember setting up the picnic table outside under a huge tree in my old backyard and setting out pie tins, shovels, buckets, and all kinds of things. We would make mud pies (even baked them in the sun) and decorate them with leaves and berries. We even had "chicken." There was this type of wood that we would find that was really soft and easy to break apart and it looked just like chicken. I had this playhouse that my uncle built me complete with real dishes and silverware. It had a Dutch door and a sliding window for ordering food. I loved that thing. It currently has been chopped in half and houses my father's firewood. That was a sad day. At school we even did this. The girls would bring in jars and plates and we would make "food" and play house. At the beginning of recess we would run out to get the best spot or "house." When it was time to go back inside, we even had a bunch of hiding places for all of our stuff.
It's amazing, once a memory is brought up, tons more come flying back. I remember I was the Skip-It queen. I remember making igloos out of the snow mounds and making forts out of leaves and branches. I remember riding my bike
everywhere. I remember the corner store and buying a sno-cone everyday, usually with pennies I found around the house. Camping and family trips to the aquarium, making friendship bracelets on the playground at recess, playing football with the boys (not allowed at the catholic school I went to, but we did it anyway). I miss summer vacation. I wish that adults had it too. I remember reading
The Adventures of Huck Finn on my couch during a summer thunderstorm and it made the book so much better to have the dramatic sound in the background. If I think back, I can still remember how my old school smelled, how the carpet in my old room felt, where my secret hiding place in my closet was, how I felt when my mom would let me help her cook or watch the baby, that feeling in my stomach when my favorite song came on the radio, how much my stomach hurt from laughing with my best friend, and what it felt like to have the wind in my face on a long car trip in the jeep. How excited were you when Oregon Trail was the game of the day in computer class? I still have most of my notes from friends in high school, my creative writing projects from 7th and 8th grade, tons of pictures from all around my life, and little pieces of my past in boxes. I'm sure that I could keep on going, remembering and reflecting on all that has happened in the past almost 25 years, but frankly, my fingers just don't want to type anymore.