Sunday, May 27, 2007

Kinder Bliss

When I was a kid, I believed that tunnels honked; long honks, short honks...they came in all sorts of shapes and sizes. Yes, I know, many of you probably believed in things like Santa Claus or the Tooth Fairy. But for me, it was honking tunnels. Each tunnel had a different sound, a different echo, and a different number of honks. The tunnel going under the Fraser river was best of all because it was so long.

When I was a kid, on hot summer nights, we'd sit on the veranda blowing bubbles and then follow them with a flashlight as they floated over the yard, drifting down the hill and into the night until they unexpectedly burst.

When I was a kid, on hot summer nights, I loved to sleep outside, beneath the stars looking for constellations and watching satellites slowly make their way across the night sky while listening to the lazy hum of crickets in the distance.

When I was a kid, all the children in our neighbourhood would spend hours running about outside, living in our imaginary worlds, until one by one our parents would call us home for dinner.

When I was a kid, we had a game we played...pinching "beauty buns." This game became a bit of an obsession and has provided fodder for epic tales...but that would take another post to explain.

When I was a kid, possibilities were endless and life was magical.

28 comments:

Fuser said...

Hi Carla, your prose is very delicate. Thank you for partaking these memories. Yes, I share with you the feeling that when we are kids life is magical. Can I ask you why you decided to write this post?
Good night and good luck.

Anonymous said...

Possibilities are still endless and life can still be magical.

Oh yes...when I was a kid I wanted to do some many things and just couldn't wait to do them. After I was able something called responsibilities kicked in and my thinking changed. Shouldn't be an excuse though. Back when I was a kid it didn't take as much to amuse me. I didn't live in a town and was basically brought up as an only child....within a divorced family. But, I would say that I still turned out pretty good.

But I would like to go back to that innocence of dreaming big and not having other things in life to cloud your mind.

The Fool said...

Hi Nomad. You're still that kid...it's still there. I remember tunnels...we used to hold our breath as we went through them...as if we were diving under water...and hills were judged by the feeling in your stomach. Bubbles, the magic of the night sky...and spending all hours running as a neighborhood pack...yep - life as kid sure had its charm. Now, tell me about this pinching beauty buns business. One's imagination can take quite the liberty with that. Yes, please clarify...and thank you for sharing. It took me back.

And what a cute kid!

:)

Carla said...

Fede, I had started writing this post about a month ago and then never finished it...not quite sure why. I only came back to it after having a good laugh with my sister on the phone about some of our crazy memories.

Sirdar, My life still is magical and possibilites are still there. Yes, occasionally the mind gets clouded, sometimes the innocence is lost, but if I look deep enough, it's still all there.

Cheryl said...

I loved this post, Carla (and the photo!), it took me right back to the wonderful summer evenings of my own childhood.
I was hoping that Chuck would be able to shed some light on the "pinching beauty buns" thing, but all he remembers was playing the kissing bandit (do I even want to know!?).

Carla said...

Fool, We used to hold our breath going past grave yards...and I too remember the hills. Hmm...that pinching business. Yes, one's imagination certainly could take flight with that one...but even I'm not sure it would fly quite far enough. It's almost a story that has to be told in person. Perhaps if I have a few drinks I will sit down and tell (post) the tale. Thanks for sharing.

Carla said...

Cheryl, Actually, I thought about mentioning how the kissing bandit lived just across the way, and how his mother with her distinctly British accent would call him in for dinner while ringing her little bell. Ah, the memories...

But seriously...I've never mentioned the other? (tell Chuck not to worry, nothing to do with him...I think I've already revealed all his secrets). We really need to get together soon :-)

Beccy said...

What beautiful memories you have.

Portrait of Peter said...

Carla, so beautiful and mystique of expression in your vision of tunnels.

How wonderful too your 'hot summer nights' - they brought back some memories for me too, especially being called in by one's parents - one by one.

A deeply moving and thoughful post - thank you so much for sharing.

Carla said...

Beccy, Yes, I really did have a very wonderful childhood.

Carla said...

Peter, It seems that some memories are almost universal experiences. The tunnel, on the other hand, perhaps I should have explained...was my father. At first is was probably just for the sensory experience, but once we believed, he had a hard time disappointing us.

Steffi said...

Very nice memories and a cute picture of you!Great post,Carla!

Carla said...

Hi Steffi, Thanks! Sometimes it's nice to take a walk down memory lane.

The Fool said...

It looks like you're wearing a ring in the photo - is it an origami ring?

Carla said...

Fool, (Bling! Bling!) I'm not quite sure...I, too, was looking at that trying to figure out what it was. Hmm...

Carrie said...

What an amazing photograph. And stories from a childhood much different from mine and from this generations. Lovely.

Anonymous said...

Lovely post, Carla.

You evoked something which I often wonder about - the power and freedom of our imagination, and how well developed it is at such an early age...

I have no doubt that we all retain this imaginative and creative force as adults. Time constraints and stress make it harder to access, I guess...

What a delightful child you were. A lovely beaming smile. :)

SleekPelt said...

I agree on all counts, Carla, this was a wonderful post. The first memory it invoked for me was of my brothers, friends and I playing whiffle ball from sun up to sun down, and then trying to figure out how we could rig up enough flashlights on poles so we could continue to play into the night. The possibilities were endless then -- sometimes I wish I still believed I could get that much light out of a handful of flashlights.

Carla said...

Carrie, Thanks. Yes, I did live in a time and a place where parents weren't over protective and we were free to chase our adventures and use our imaginations.

Winters, The imagination is very freeing although at times it can hold us captive. I agree with you, we still can access that creative force if we really want to. Thanks for your comments.

Carla said...

Sleekpelt, I have no idea what whiffle ball is, but I do remember playing sardines into the wee hours of the night. I can just imagine the flashlights on the poles.

JBelle said...

I remember the summer nights as soooo warm and soft....

Carla said...

JBelle, I haven't see you around for awhile. Good to have you back. As for the nights, lucky for me, nights in the mountains tend to be crisp. The grass is usually thick with dew in the morning but the day warms up quickly.

SleekPelt said...

Wiffle ball is a form of backyard baseball, Carla, but with a plastic bat and ball.

The Fool said...

Hi Nomad...you made me smile with the "Bling! Bling!" You were an early proponent, eh? ...it looks like you have a ring on the thumb as well.

Debbie said...

I love this post. So well written. Such rich memories they gave me.

Carla said...

Sleekpelt, Thanks. I've never heard of the game, although I am sure that I've played various versions at different points in my childhood.

Fool, Glad I made you smile. It's probably fashioned out of a dandilion stalk ;-)

Hi Debbie, Thanks! It's fun to muse over those enchanting memories from childhood. I feel fortunate as I have so many good ones.

Dan said...

And when you were a kid, you were as cute as you are today!

I loved this post!

Carla said...

Thanks Dan. It was a fun one to write.