Remember these piney stick faces?
At the time, I wondered what had made them so happy. Well, Saturday on our walk, I think I found the answer. As we approached the house directly across the street from the piney stick smiles, this is what we saw.
I couldn’t tell exactly what it was at first, but the husband knew...and he started chuckling.
Give a little boy a pile of dirt, some sticks, and a little time, and you end up with this.
A piney stick stockade, complete with rifles-on-the-ready to protect from vicious invaders.
Twenty years ago, this might not have been so noteworthy. Forty years ago, it was as common as azaleas in the southern springtime. But today, we took note. Because today we rarely see evidence of simple childish playtime, at least not around here. Too often, our neighbhorhood looks like that scene from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.... the one where Truly Scrumptious asks, “But where are all the children?” And the Child Catcher du jour appears to be a tripped out electronic screen.
At least that’s the view from my side of the hill.
But at this house, the little boys are often outside, playing.
Apparently, Mom and Dad got a load of dirt delivered, and they didn’t mind the sacrifice of load or lawn for a day of Let’s Pretend. The husband and I meandered on a side trip down memory lane. I wondered aloud if they were protecting their fortress from those smiling pine tree invaders. The husband corrected me. Two guns, he observed, were firmly planted toward the forest in the other direction.
I returned home and headed back out with the shiny red Kodak. And then, I made those little pretenders a batch of my favorite cookies.
Simple gift, day 16.
I’m pretty sure that in this instance, we were actually the receivers.