I got a message on Facebook that said – and I am paraphrasing here- If you grew up in the era where you went out each morning and did not come home until dark you grew up in the best of times.

I think that is true. When I think back to the way it was when I grew up, I am in awe of the things we did. When I got up, I had chores to do first. When they were done, I was allowed to do whatever struck my fancy.

I had many neighborhood friends – boys and girls. We all played games together. In the evening when the weather got cooler, we often played kick the can. Someone raided their garbage, cleaned up a tin can and we used it for a baseball like activity. You kicked the can instead of batting the ball. There were four bases just like in baseball. If someone caught the can you were out. If it went quite a way, you were allowed to run around the bases until you no longer felt safe. Then, the next person took their turn.

We lived on a street with the railroad tracks at the end of it. You could drive through there, but not too many people did. If a car came, we just paused our game and let it through.

We did not even go in when it got dark. Playing hide-and-seek by the street light was fun. You could hide in the shadows and get home fast.

There were a lot of other activities. We went to the playground. We went to Little League baseball games to cheer on our favorite players. If we were lucky on a warm day someone would take us to the beach. I recall swimming at Point Gratiot, at Wright Park, and near the electric plant. It depended on what the beach was like as to where we went.

Summer was a time of freedom. It was a time of fun. We did not have a curfew because we were just out front of our houses for the most part.

Then, there is the era my children grew up in. I no longer lived in the city. I traded my city roots for the country. My children either played together or they played with their cousins. When they were more grown up, they often camped in the woods up on our hill. Each of them drove the four-wheeler. They would use it to take things up. They gathered wood and usually had a campfire. I never knew how many kids were up on the hill, but it was a sure thing they would come down for breakfast.

Sometimes I had to be inventive. I could always make pancakes. They went a long way. Sometimes I had eggs and could make scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast.

They had some kind of game they played when it got dark. I know they ran around and someone was it but I fail to recall the name. It was not hide-and-seek.

The games they played did not take a lot of equipment. They made do with what they had and still had fun. Living out in the country meant that if they wanted to play basketball, they had to go to town to find a court. That came after some of them could drive.

My grandchildren grew up in the country too. The cousins often played together. The family had cook-outs. We also took our tents down by the pond to camp. They swam in the pond and fished there. One night my granddaughter wanted to know how to filet a fish. Uncle Todd showed her. They fished, then fileted what they caught. Fish never tasted so good.

Although my children and grandchildren grew up differently than I did life was still pretty simple. Our recreation centered around the family. A day of camping by the pond after a day in the hayfield was a good day.

On night we forgot to bring water with us. I was camping with my son and his family. When I went to bed Todd was not settled down yet. When I had to get up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, I tripped over his boots that now blocked the tent entry. Everyone woke up – sorry about that.

The next morning Todd and I were the first ones awake. He had a little heater to warm the water to make coffee. The only thing we had was lemon flavored water. We used that. It has become a standing joke in the family. Lemon water does not make good coffee!

Ann Swanson writes from her home in Russell. Contact her at hickoryheights1@verizon.net.