My primary memory of childhood is warm, golden summer days and freedom. We lived in San Diego during my elementary school years and my sister and I would take off in the morning and ride our bikes everywhere; to a Saturday matinee with a double feature and cartoons, to the library, playground, corner store to spend our allowance on nickle candy bars. There were small canyons in our neighborhood and we'd find old cardboard boxes behind the supermarket and use them to slide down the hills. Eat prickly pears. If we wanted to go to the zoo, we'd hop on a city bus. I believe it was free at the time.
There was a cement culvert behind our apartment and if it had rained, we'd spend hours there exploring and floating on inner tubes. Our mother worked and arranged for a neighbor to fix lunch for us, but otherwise we were completely on our own.
There was a stand of castor bean plants on the perimeter of the property and mom idly told us once not to eat the berries. No big deal.
We went to grandma's house every Sunday. We'd play barefoot in the yard and run through the sprinklers while the adults "visited." Sometimes grandpa would take us rock collecting, which was just an excuse to go for a long afternoon drive to the desert. We'd sit on his lap in the car and pretend to steer. Dinner often included lime Jello with cottage cheese and angel food cake. Bonanza on TV to cap off the day.
Was any of that safe? Definitely not! But great memories now.
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