Not all who wander are lost … 😂

From my domain at the corner of Fairview Avenue, I would pick a direction and see what I found. I knew which direction to go to find more kids, which way to find that street lined with huge old trees like a big green tunnel, where the playgrounds were, the old railroad tracks with the wildflowers, the old man who kept his pet squirrel, Nuisance, on the front porch, the rhubarb patch and the apple trees. This morning, I woke with the picture of the Mills in my mind. Wanda and Old Ron. Three houses down around the corner, they were favorites of mine. They had the best house on the block, in my opinion, not that I’d ever been inside. But it was completely unique to its neighbors, which were mostly one story ranches or what I think of as kindergarten drawing houses - plain two story boxes with a triangle roof. They had a wonderful tall front stoop like on Sesame Street shaded by two full maple trees. It had an air of quiet and peace, and they spent a lot of time sitting on it. I can still see their toothless smiling faces, eyes crinkling at the corners. He always looked grizzly and had a big round belly and wore overalls like my Uncle Gerald. She had curly orange hair and liked bright flowery dresses. There were never children at their house, which I recognize now is because they were old and their children long grown. Maybe that’s why they were always so happy to see me coming down the sidewalk. I enjoyed my welcome there. I couldn’t tell you what we talked about but I know we talked. I can hear their voices still. A little raspy, with a touch of twang. A lot like some of my older relatives who lived in the country. Before I would go, he would let me visit the bunnies he kept in the backyard. My mother told me many years later that every Easter we lived there, he would ask her if he could give me one. Needless to say, she was happy just leaving me with visitation rights. 😂 They’re both long gone now, of course, but on the rare occasion I check on my old neighborhood when I’m in town, I check on their lovely shaded stoop as well and enjoy the warmth of their memory. As it would turn out, I’d someday marry a nephew of Wanda’s. A son of her much younger brother she would only meet once. I always thought that was funny.

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cherokeepatti · 61-69, F

We’d wander the village with the only other children that lived there. Summers and weekends. When we tired of the village we’d pick a road and start down it and find a farm road and take it. The neighbor girl told us there was a horseshoe “lake”, and we walked down to it. It’s just a small narrow creek that wound around in a horseshoe-shaped curve. But we walked further on and found a huge wild cherry tree right next to the road and it was loaded with wild cherries. Ate them until we could eat no more and continued on. Some expeditions resulted in finding and collecting wildflowers or finding blackberries that were at an old abandoned home. Or finding an old abandoned house and walking around inside looking at the windows, the curtains or shades left on them, the cabinets etc. Usually every abandoned house had an old calendar left hanging on the wall and could tell the last year it was lived in.