I grew up on 11 acres of Hillside. That's how we always referred to it: "the hillside." It was where my dad & his dad grew up. My parents still live there. There were no sidewalks to ride bikes on; no paved street to run up & down with friends. No Crayola colored plastic playground. We did have a metal swing set that would tip if you went too high or burn your bottom when the metal slide got too hot (did you know if you rubbed it with waxed paper, you could slide really fast?) There, the well-to-do people have flat yards in tidy neighborhoods. I'm pretty sure we were not considered well-to-do. Now where I live it's just the opposite. McMansions are built amongst rolling hills and spec homes have flat yards. People want to "own land" out in the country where there are no sidewalks, paved roads, city water, or even street lights. Like I always say, it's all perception.
The woods were our playground. My brother and I created a fantasy world in a clearing in the woods up the hill behind our house. It had the best monkey vines. Our favorite started at the top of a nob and you swung down the hill and over a ravine. On the other side was "some other country." I was furious when my older cousins broke that vine!
Two of the Christmas trees we bought for the holiday & then planted have grown into pine skyscrapers. I just found out a little back-story about this one. My brother said when the tree was young, our uncle ran into it twice trying to back down the driveway. That tree turned out to be as stubborn as my Grandma. Here's the trunk as it comes out of the ground:
And grew up into this:
Grandma & Mom always said you had to be tough to survive living "on that hillside."
all photos were taken last week at my childhood "hillside"
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