random things i remember from childhood

* peanut butter on thick slices of just-bought fresh, crusty bread. and a coke. eaten on a TV tray while sitting on the couch in the family room at lunchtime on a saturday. watching the saturday-afternoon special on the ABC affiliate from buffalo.

* the smell of my birthday.

* outings downtown on the subway, which was red inside and out, with vinyl seats and windows that opened. the smell of burning tar as the cars rocketed along the tracks. the feeling of going on an adventure, even though the destination was just the eaton’s or simpson’s department store.

* the smell of sunshine on my skin after hours spent outside. playing with my friends in the yards around their houses or mine. baseball in the circular elbow of the street where it curved west. riding bikes to nowhere and everywhere. sitting on the front porch, having the kind of deep and insightful conversations only an eight-year-old can have.

* baskin robbins mint chip in a sugar cone.

* the cold, wet floors of the women’s change room at the nearby outdoor pool. the showers on the way out to the pool deck, which were so powerful they felt like they were actually shredding skin with the force of the spray. shower water that was always too hot or too cold. never perfect.

* hours and hours and hours and hours spent swimming at that pool. some days, for every available minute it was open. bleached hair that was nearly white. deep, pronounced tan lines.

* my grandmother’s asbestos hands.

* sledding on neighbourhood hills in winter... none of which look halfway high enough to count nowadays, but which seemed immense back then. playing on snow banks and in snowdrifts until snowsuits and mittens were soaked through and through.

* crying. a lot.

* the smell of the school bus on rainy days. like wet socks and disappointment.

* hostess smoky bacon chips, with an illustration of a bacon strip on the front of the paper and foil bag.

* tagging along with a neighbour to the vet clinic in the strip mall across the street, where she worked as a tech. helping to feed the cats. playing with kittens. seeing a rat splayed open in surgery.

* my horrible, horrible czech dentist with the thick accent, nicotine fingers and the perpetual scowl. who hated children. the mouth full of metal that remains as a result of his practice of eschewing preventative care for restorative/reparative “care.”

* all the dogs on the street. sadie, the white lab; tammy, the boston terrier; missy, the black poodle; frobie, the cairn terrier, and his gigantic best friend, toula, the great pyrenees.

* being afraid much of the time. not of anything or anyone in particular, just a semi-constant sense of dread and worry. it’s never completely gone away.