Playing on the farm

When Johnny and I visited the farm in Bath we were usually allowed to play in the front of the house by ourselves. I also remember playing down near the barn and in the fields behind the barn. I think we were only allowed to play near the barn if an adult was there.

We loved playing hide and seek and tag, and all those childhood games that were popular in the fifties and probably still are. If we were lucky, there would be a tire swing attached to a branch of one of the huge maple trees in the front yard. These trees served various functions; they provided shade for when you were having a picnic, you could attach a swing to one of them, or you could install a line between them for hanging clothes to dry.... Or you could just climb them, but Johnny and I weren't allowed to do that.

Wheelbarrow rides were fun. Sometimes if uncle Frank wasn’t busy he would push us kids, one at a time, up and down the gravel driveway. Uncle Frank was always so good to us, just like daddy. Daddy used to take us for wheelbarrow rides, wagon rides, sleigh rides, you name it, when we lived on Isabelle St. in Hull.

Anyways, back to the farm. Most of the time we made our own fun. Many of the childhood outdoor games we played had a catchy little jingle attached to it. Remember “London Bridge …. " and "Ring around the rosy...." Well all these little rhymes, which we knew by heart (and there were many of them) had actions attached to them: many of them were meant for a group and I remember playing them during recess when we were at school and at home with Patty and Johnny and Jimmy or with Kathleen and Diane, our friends who lived next door.

When Johnny and I used to play together on the farm, and because there was just the two of us we often played handclapping games like “Pat a cake, pat a cake bakers man, bake me a cake as fast as you can.” We would start off slowly and go faster and faster. Remember this one. "Peas porridge hot, peas porridge cold, peas porridge in the pot, nine days old; Some like it hot, some like it cold, Some like it in the pot, nine days old." Usually Johnny was better at games than I was, but when it came to hand clapping ones I was better. I think girls played these games more than boys when I was a kid. These games were fun. You didn’t need any equipment or supplies: just your hands and a friend or a brother.

There was always a ball around and we would often play “catch” together. Sometimes we would throw it against one of walls of the barn; we weren’t allowed to throw the ball against the house. We found that out fast enough.

I remember playing  I spy something with my little eye…… and card games like Crazy Eights, Fish and War on rainy days in the room where the TV set was, off of grandma’s bedroom.



Anyways back to playing outside. Well OH MY GOSH. I remember one time playing down by the barn and oh boy, oh boy...….. Remember cow pies? Cow pies came to my mind yesterday when I was baking cookies for Michelle's wedding reception. I thought the cookies looked like miniature "cow pies" and that got me thinking of the farm again. Pat said I should write about my cow pie experience on the farm and include a picture of one of the cookies ha ha. I’m not sure what our uncles did with all the cow manure. I remember uncle Frank shovelling it into a bin so I’m guessing they would have used it as fertilizer for their crops. I’m speculating here.

Anyways the first time Johnny and I decided to play on the cow pies was our last. These big round pie shaped poos looked solid to us so we were going to make a game out of jumping from one to another. I went first and didn’t make it past the first one. The crust on the top was hard but it was deceiving because underneath was anything but.

Johnny laughed but it wasn’t very funny. I was covered in cow poo up to my knees, maybe even higher. Johnny felt badly that he laughed and told me he was sorry. “It just sort of slipped out” he said. Johnny would never say or do anything mean. He said it was like a reflex action that he laughed when he saw the poo squirt all over my legs. I think he was secretly glad it wasn't him though.

Uncle Frank heard the performance and came over because he was nearby: probably milking cows. He cleaned me off with a bucket of water and said “we won’t tell grandma about this ok?” Uncle Frank was so sweet: he never got angry at us kids for anything. I’m thinking maybe he tried the "cow pie jumping" game when he was a kid.

I don’t remember what happened to my shoes but I remember the water from the well that uncle Frank poured over my knees that ran down to my toes because it was so cold!

We never played "that" game again.