When I was a very small child we made frequent trips to my Grandparents house in Blue Ridge, Ga. It was “out in the sticks” as people might now say. The road was dirt the last 10 miles or so, and you couldn’t ride too close behind another car during the dusty, hot days of Summer if you wanted to be able to see the curves in that narrow little path they called a road.
The chickens were running around in the yard to greet us when we arrived, and I knew from experience that we would be going to bed at the same time they did. Grandpa didn’t have a TV back then, and he did not like the thoughts of an electric bill of over 10 dollars. So, it was light’s out after sundown and straight to bed. I usually brought comic books to read by flashlight…after I learned to read.
The most common activities during the weekend, besides reading would be swinging in the front porch swing during rain showers, and playing in the creek if it was sunny. I’d hunt under rocks for crawdads and spring lizards. When I got a little older, we’d use the lizards for bass fishing.
We’d visit, be visited, and generally socialize with the Aunts and Uncles, and we first cousins would play with each other. The older ones would ignore the younger ones, and we younger ones would make up stuff to do. We had no electronic gadgets with which to pass the time. I used to think how boring it all was, and how..slow..time…passed.
Now that I’m 65, I’m glad my memory is good enough to remember some of it, and I wish time would make a turn around and seem to pass that slowly now. I guess people rarely appreciate anything which happens to them “in the moment” My advice to anyone would be to try.