Acorn Fights

I am not sure if there is anyone out there, besides me, who would remember a game called, "Acorn Fights," but when I was about 8 or 9 years old, my older brother and I used to play a neighborhood-wide game that consisted of hedges, acorns, strong throwing arms and quick "collectors and retrievers." The game was played by the older boys who were around the ages of 12-15 years old. Each fall, these  boys would choose sides for the "fight” as well as a "collector and retriever." I was always on the opposite side of my brother, for some reason, and one of the oldest and biggest of the boys always chose me for his "C & R." I would gather up a shopping bag for each hand and hunt all day for acorns. The filled bags would be delivered to the "team leader." The sides being chosen, we would all take our places behind the hedges of two houses that were across the street from one another. Everyone ducked behind their respective hedges and the boys chucked acorns at one another. Each time an acorn "connected" with an opponent, a point was scored. Sick game....I see now, but it sure did occupy our fall weekends. 

Once all the acorns were depleted, a "time-out" was called so the "retrievers" could gather up the acorns for the next round. The faster the retriever, the more acorns you collected, thus making one side stronger. I was small and quick and gathered up acorns for my team. The look of appreciation on my team leader's face each time I returned with yet another full bag, made me feel important.

What makes me remember this old pastime so vividly? Well, it is due to the fact that while doing my "retrieving" an opponent (perhaps my brother???) hurled an acorn at me and hit me square in the temple. Wow, was that painful! My team leader, protective of his little peon, ran out to see how I was and admonished the opposers that someone DARED to sideline his "retriever." Having him be so protective of me was a great feeling - despite the searing pain in my temple. I wish I knew who he was, because I'd like to thank him for making a little kid feel so proud and important.

What fun....a neighborhood game, invented by kids, that the adults wouldn’t understand. I don't think kids today have the same creativity or resourcefulness. We had to find the fun because our parents didn't have the time or resources to plan and provide it all for us. We were told, “Go outside and play.” Life was simpler back then. I am so happy I grew up during Camelot!

Love never ceases to endure

I wrote this so long ago, but I can evoke all the feelings of the time whenever I re-read it. Often, I wonder if I am a good writer and just settle for the satisfaction of feeling that as long as I think I am - than it is so. I find power in words and think the following is powerfully poignant.

a crack in the earth

the ice melted and it flowed into streams.
it flowed into rivers and created oceans
and beauty emerged on earth.
beauty in all shapes, sizes, smells and sounds.

the sun rose and set for the earth and all it contained.
earth experienced the sweet and the bitter,
the moist and the parched,
the light and the dark, the love and the hate.

it basked in the heat of the sun and it embraced the cleansing cold,
because, if not for the cold, who would enjoy the warmth?
for every good thing that emerged, a counterpart appeared.
yet only by experiencing the bad, could anyone enjoy the good.

over time, the earth witnessed growth and destruction.
it heralded life and agonized over death,
it anticipated each new day
and it blessed every night.

the earth, when it was most cared for,
would nurture and protect in abundance.
it guarded the smallest of the small
and encouraged the greatest of the great.

after many years, a crack formed in the earth.
it started out small, hardly noticeable.
vibrations from its orbit made the crack deeper
until there was one huge slice through the center.
a gaping fissure bled out sorrows and sadness.
all that existed where the crack emerged withered and died.

earth could not comprehend how the crack
went unnoticed and advanced so rapidly and forcefully.
time passed as earth continued to look at both sides of the fissure
and it saw that beauty and love remained on both sides.

the earth waited patiently for the crack to mend.
seconds ticked by, hours and days would pass,
years would slip by while no one observed.
but the earth always watched and never lost hope.

when it couldn't see with its eyes, it saw through its soul.
when it couldn’t feel with its hands, it felt with its heart.
when it couldn’t hear with its ears, memories of laughter and love
sustained the earth until the end of her days.


started 8/24/06, completed 12/9/07

First Days of School

This week marked the first day of school for my grandson, Cooper. His older sister, Summer, had her first day last week. She will accept pre-school, but he loved pre-school. Just like my own two children, the more out-going one wasn't as gung-ho for attending at first. The younger, more clingy child, barely said good-bye to me when I was leaving. So was it for my daugther-in-law. You hate to see them cry for you, but I think it might hurt more when they just dismiss you for the finger painting station and "Jason," that kid with the runny nose. Hummm, he better not come home with a runny nose...Ha...so many years ago and I can STILL REMEMBER.

I can even remember my own "firsts." Since I attended five, yes, count 'em, five, elementary schools, I had many firsts. Some were easier than others, but I remember my very first day of kindergarten. I went to Frank G. Lindsey School in Montrose, NY. It was a new school, just recently opened and was solid brick. The kindergarten classes each had their own toilet. Miss Kennedy was my teacher and she was very pretty, young and nice. She had that cinched-in waist accented by her crinolined skirts, so very chic in the 1960's. I liked everything about school, especially nap time. Apparently, after lunch was nap time and we all had these little low cots that were kept stacked in a closet that looked like it was made especially for the cots. It resembled a sliding door closet sans the sliding doors. The "Cot Leader," a student who was assigned daily, was in charge of watching everyone get their cot and they received the last cot, which was kept in the "closet." It was like having a private room. Due to the fact that I didn't want to awaken from my nap, I never had the desirable job of "Cot Leader." I remember begging Miss Kennedy, but she said that I couldn't do the task since the cots had to be put away before the buses came, and she was always still trying to wake me from my nap as my fellow students were lining up for the buses! But I showed them all...yeah, I showed all those "Cot Leaders." At the end of the school year, I received a blue ribbon with a gold star entitled, "Best Rester." I still have it in a scrap book.

The incident that prompted me to want to "quit" school after the first day was my getting on (being put on) the wrong bus at the end of said first day. The bus drove the whole route and I was still sitting on the bus when it was heading back to the garage. I don't remember much, except the bus pulling back into the school parking lot and me thinking I had to spend the night there. As it turned out, the Transportation Director was waiting for me in a blue station wagon. He was a very kind and "fatherly" man. He drove me home and let me off at my stop where my mom was waiting. Although I don't remember, I am sure she must have been a wreck - especially since this was before the days of cell phones and speed dial. However, it was during Camelot...Not much need then to worry about the worst. She gave me a hug, I told her I was quitting and she had to spend the rest of the night explaining how I couldn't quit yet. The irony of the whole event was the fact that the Transportation Director's son attended my school. He was a grade ahead of me and I ended up working as his secretary 40 years later. What a small world. A small world in which some things just never change. Kids go to school, parents worry, "traumatic events" befall kids and they remember them forever. I look at my special award every now and again and regret the fact that I couldn't take my nap in the closet. Especially now, as I lay awake at night, trying like hell to fall asleep!