“When I look back on my childhood, I wonder how I survived at all,” the book’s second paragraph begins in a famous passage. “It was, of course, a miserable childhood: The happy childhood is hardly worth your while. Worse than the ordinary miserable childhood is the miserable Irish childhood, and worse yet is the miserable Irish Catholic childhood.
“People everywhere brag and whimper about the woes of their early years, but nothing can compare with the Irish version: the poverty; the shiftless loquacious alcoholic father; the pious defeated mother moaning by the fire; pompous priests; bullying schoolmasters; the English and all the terrible things they did to us for 800 long years.”
From _Angela's Ashes_ by Frank McCourt, who died yesterday at age 78, quoted in the NYTimes: http://www.nytimes.com/2009/07/20/books/20mccourt.html?th&emc=th
A great highlight of growing up in Amherst -- finally getting up the courage to jump off the cliffs into Puffer's Pond. Alas, another true adventure taken away by worried grown-up.
Kids are sent to school in bubbles these days, they are let out for five minutes fresh air and out back inside. O.K. kids that's enough fresh air, back in your bubbles.
Some of my best times resulted with a bruise or abrasion. I hardly ever see kids outside being kids.
Does anyone remember the rope swing that hung from the tree over on the OTHER side of the pond from the cliffs? (where the main beach area is now) We used to have a LOT of fun with that until they took it down! Sigh... True, unfettered PLAY - as in: no rules, no organization, and no adults around - is indeed becoming a thing of the past (along with rope swings!). What a shame.
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Geronimo, looks like fun. Sign me up.
“When I look back on my childhood, I wonder how I survived at all,” the book’s second paragraph begins in a famous passage. “It was, of course, a miserable childhood: The happy childhood is hardly worth your while. Worse than the ordinary miserable childhood is the miserable Irish childhood, and worse yet is the miserable Irish Catholic childhood.
“People everywhere brag and whimper about the woes of their early years, but nothing can compare with the Irish version: the poverty; the shiftless loquacious alcoholic father; the pious defeated mother moaning by the fire; pompous priests; bullying schoolmasters; the English and all the terrible things they did to us for 800 long years.”
From _Angela's Ashes_ by Frank McCourt, who died yesterday at age 78, quoted in the NYTimes:
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/07/20/books/20mccourt.html?th&emc=th
“literature was nothing more — and nothing less — than the telling of stories.”
A nice variation of "write what you know."
A great highlight of growing up in Amherst -- finally getting up the courage to jump off the cliffs into Puffer's Pond. Alas, another true adventure taken away by worried grown-up.
Yeah, they do have a lot of signs saying stay off the cliffs.
Kids are sent to school in bubbles these days, they are let out for five minutes fresh air and out back inside. O.K. kids that's enough fresh air, back in your bubbles.
Some of my best times resulted with a bruise or abrasion. I hardly ever see kids outside being kids.
Does anyone remember the rope swing that hung from the tree over on the OTHER side of the pond from the cliffs? (where the main beach area is now) We used to have a LOT of fun with that until they took it down! Sigh... True, unfettered PLAY - as in: no rules, no organization, and no adults around - is indeed becoming a thing of the past (along with rope swings!). What a shame.
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