Saturday, June 03, 2006

Sunday Scribblings - "Earliest Memories"

My earliest memory of my childhood was of a little two-bedroom brick house surrounded by fields of dry grass. We had a front and back lawn, but for me the jungle of tall dry grass was my play ground. The dry grass was much taller than any 4yr old, with endless possibilities of play.

I would crawl on my hands and knees, plowing tunnels through the grass. Leaving a path of bent grass, creating a secret maze that only my imagination could tell you where it led. I would create bigger patches of grass, off my path, making rooms, secret places. I would play house with my dolls, totally hidden from moms watchful eyes. I felt like I was the only person who knew of this place, hidden in the fields. I can close my eyes and still smell that grass, remember my reddened hands and knees. I realize now mom was seeing my every move, knowing what direction to call my name and letting me keep my secret place, a secret.

I remember struggling with having to share my parents with a new sibling and finding solace in playing away from the house. When I was a teenager, my secret places were in books, where all my fantasies came true. Once I got married and had children, I had very little time for secret places. Now the kids are gone, I bask in my abundant alone time by doing whatever I please. My life is my secret place :)

22 comments:

Bedazzzled1 said...

Hi, honey! My eyes crinkled and twinkled when my lips were curved up in a big smile while reading this. What a charming memory...and your telling of it is perfection.

You are a jewel.

::hugggg::
Nikki Ü

AnnieElf said...

I love how the memory of your adventures in the dry grass and creating secret places has followed you as a major thread throughout your life. Bravo.

Jemima said...

I'm there.

TJ said...

laughing...I still love secret places and love to think I am getting away with something!!!
Love ya
TJ

paris parfait said...

Lovely story about treasuring your secret places to dream and play!

Becca said...

It seems so many of us had secret places where we could test out our independence and get to know ourselves in a safe place but apart from our families. Your memories of yours are lovely.

boliyou said...

I love the story of your secret places. It stirs a memory in me that I can't quite put my finger on, but I remember making little secret rooms as a child.

Thanks for sharing!

Chris said...

What a very interesting entry, Tammy. I loved it because it reminds me of my earliest specific memory.

It was a late afternoon in early summer. Laurie Graham (neighbor) and I were hanging, arms draped over the chain link fence of my back yard in my mother's azalea garden. I told her that I was 4 and 1/2 and that she was four. I don't know why that moment stuck with me with such clarity. Weird.

Chris
My Blog

Amber said...

Hi!

I love the idea of a little girl making rooms out of the tall grass. Part of me could still remember what those games felt like. Very nice memory!

:)

Jess said...

It's great that your mom watched over you but still allowed you to have your independence. My dad and his brothers made forts and tunnels in the hay in the barn when they were kids, and I always thought that sounded like so much fun! My adventures mostly took place vicariously by reading.

AnnieElf said...

Hi Tammy, I've been reading your blog(s). I can't wait to meet you. Will be in touch soon. Blessings, Annie

tinker said...

I love the idea of secret pathways and rooms in the tall grass - Told very well, too!

Living Part Deux said...

Secret places - what a precious retreat for children and adults. Lovely, lovely recounting.

tara dawn said...

What wonderful early memories! And I love the image of your secret place. We all need our secret places...though they change throughout our lives, they are always there, for us and us alone.
I am so sorry I have been so absent lately. I loved reading your previous post as well...you did an excellent job with the letter "T".
I hope you are doing well sweetie and enjoying the warmth of the season. I miss you and think of you often.
My love and big, big hugs!!!
-Tara Dawn

rachel said...

reading so many of poetry thursday's writings, I have become fascinated by the younger sibling arrival and how it is often our first memory,
Tammy have just read your most recent few posts, and I love them. Your 100th post as well. You go girl. Love the view from your mountain hideaway. Would like to tag you if that's okay
rachh

Cate said...

Bedazzled wrote about you being a jewel, and she is so right! This is fabulous--I can picture that special field and your red hands! I'm glad that you have managed to find a secret place again--that's something we all need and deserve!

Lovely writing!

emmapeelDallas said...

Oh, Virginia Woolf was right...we all need a room of our own. This is a beautiful entry, and I can see, feel and smell the grass, you've described it so vividly.

XO

Judi

Anonymous said...

I can just picture a little goomba crawling around the grass thinking she is hidden and in her secret little space not knowing that her mom can see everything ,your so cute in your discription of your little secret spot..Love Dave

ian russell said...

I love those private places in gardens - every garden should have at least one, to sit and contemplate. it's a nice memory, tammy. great post.

~ Lori said...

This is a wonderful memory and one I relate to. Wasn't it great being a kid and escaping like that? Even moreso that you've found another special spot to enjoy as an adult.
Good for you!
Hugs ~ Lori

Globetrotter said...

What a lovely post, Tammy! Every child needs a secret place and yours sounded especially marvelous! Books were also my secret place to hide when I was a child. A place to escape to whenever things got rough. So many classics comforted me when my own family life got weird. Rebecca of Sunnybrook farm, The little Princess... and my favorite..."The Secret Garden!"

Now you have a secret life to do what ever you choose! How cool is that? I do too! We're lucky to have these little hiding spots, aren't we?

Delaleuverses said...

Beautiful, endless memories, this you should turn into a memoir book