Day 11 #100DaysOfOldDays

We all talk about the freedom we had as children of the 70’s & 80s. When I think about the places we played as children, I wonder how we came safe. I got stuck up trees, got lost in the woods, my brother fell into a slurry pit. That same brother threw another brother across his shoulder playing kung fu, he landed on his head and nearly died from blood poisoning.

All five of us fell into a river (at different times) and lived to tell the tale. None of this was unusual for the times we lived in. Children swam in the lakes, roamed fields and forests. Stayed outside until darkness fell and cycled for miles on their bikes. We hadn’t much fear I suppose, and we all looked out for each other.

My brothers and I spent a lot of time in the countryside where my father’s workplace was located. We played in the meadow and picnicked by a narrow river. When the dam (further up) was closed, the river was so shallow that we could play under the bridge; either barefoot or in wellies.

(Lucy’s big sister, Gemma age 27, is visiting and she wanted to draw a picture for us. They got very competitive!)

There were rules and we followed them. There was a particular point in the river that we weren’t allowed to pass, and we never did, and we never got in while the dam was open.

Across the field where the dam was, there was a thicket of hazel trees. We used to cross the dam bridge, which was only a couple of meters long, to get to the hazel trees. With the dam closed, one part of the river was four or five feet deep. We would swing from a hazel branch across the river while our bums skimmed off the water. We got a great adrenaline buzz from it. As far as I remember, none of us fell in whilst swinging from those branches.

I got my dip with a simple loss of footing. It was in a very shallow part and I remember it as clear as day. My cousin was standing beside me at the time and for years I blamed him for pushing me in…although he has always strongly denied this! Mmm…