September 21, 2015 - 10:00
Growing up without any siblings who lived at home with me since I have a much older brother, I spent a lot of time playing with friends or playing by myself. My front and back yards had a lot of space to run around and play in, and in my backyard my dad had built me a swing set with monkey bars, a slide, a fireman’s pole, and a tower. My friends and I usually spent our springs, summers and falls swinging and jumping into piles of vibrant leaves resulting from the New England foliage and hung out in the tower, chatting and coloring or playing with dolls. One big part of playing as a child revolved around fairy houses, which were small architectural creations made with only materials found outdoors. Sometimes I brought back shells and rocks from the beach to add to these houses. All of my friends knew about the Fairy House stories by a local author named Tracy Kane and if they did not, we bought them the books for their birthdays. Occasionally we wrote little notes to the fairies, similar to leaving money for the tooth fairy or a letter to Santa, and we would find that the fairies wrote back to us. It was always a pleasant surprise to discover early next morning, nestled in the dewy grass by the base of a tree, a piece of paper with curly-font words just for me. In the winter we would play in the snow, making snow angels and snow people or sledding on the hill in my yard. For several years, my dad created a small ice rink, about ten or twelve feet in diameter. One year I remember we had a glorious skating party where it was snowing outside once practically all of our nearby friends arrived, we skated until dark when we turned on the floodlights and ran through the snow on the ground as it fell around us. When we wanted to warm up we would go inside and have warm snacks and cocoa, sit by woodstove, and play with my inside toys and make crafts. That was probably one of the best days and nights of my childhood; I wish I remembered it even more vividly. I think I was seven or eight at the time.