Hot Summers and Hopscotch

Old childhood games - hoolahoop, jump rope, jacks, hopscotch... does anybody play them anymore? I taught my grandson, Caiden how to hopscotch a few years back, while staying at his house. I don't know that his Daddy loved the idea, but Caiden did! Five year olds aren't too picky about what they do with Grammy, just that they spend time together. I thought I should do it while I could still hop. I don't remember ever seeing my grandmother hop, not once. My memories of her are more of sitting in a chair with a spit can for her snuff.

Growing up deep in the south we spent hot summer hours on the driveway or sidewalk, oblivious to the heat. Heat in the south just is, not worth paying much attention to. (It was actually fun melting snails with Morton's salt, on the sidewalk of the big white house on Emilie but that's another story for another day.) We didn't use chalk, we used the side of a seashell, which was easily available growing up close to the Gulf Coast. Only school teachers had chalk then.

Even this many years past, I still remember playing for hours with Patricia who was a bit chubby and had curly blonde hair, Pamela, tall and thin with tight black curls, and Carolyn. We only let Carolyn join us because she was Patricia's baby sister and we rarely could shed ourselves of her company. Once in awhile Rose joined us, Rose who sported horned rimmed glasses, and hair super short with a big bow tied around it most days. You'd think we'd have welcomed Carolyn and pushed Rose aside, but childhood friendships don't make sense, they just are. Maybe we felt sorry for Rose, who lived with her grandparents, and we never understood exactly why. Sometimes it amazes me that, more than forty years later, I still can vividly remember every one of their faces.

First you'd draw "Home" - a lumpy sort of semi-circle at the bottom, then a block for 'one' and another for 'two'. 'Three/four' were two boxes, drawn crosswise, and then I'd draw a box for 'five' and 'six', 'seven/eight' crosswise again, a box for 'nine' then another lumpy semi-circle at the top that was 'heaven'. Of course you wrote 'Heaven' in the circle.

Once drawn, we'd each set our carefully selected stones in 'Home' then wait our turn to throw it to the blocks. Up we'd hop, on one foot in the single blocks, then firmly planting both feet in 'three/four' and 'seven/eight', thankful for the chance to regain balance of our skinny little bodies. Lean way over and stoop down to scoop up our rock, in whatever block it was laying, then finally hopping into 'heaven'. Then we'd turn around and hop back to wait our turn again. If your stone didn't land in the block you were on, then you'd have to wait your turn for another chance to toss it.

Hours and hours of fun, hopping up and down the driveway or sidewalk, and all we needed was a sturdy piece of seashell and a few rocks.

Cold red koolaide from Mama's fridge afterwards made for a perfect summer day.

It doesn't matter the generations that pass, or whether it's a little boy's or girl's skinny legs doing the hopping (although I am looking forward to playing with Miss Addie when she grows a bit.) It's still a wonderful way to while away the hours. I heard it was 75 in Dallas a few days ago, so if you're blessed enough to live in the south grab your kids, grab your grandkids, and a shell. If you're desperate find a piece of chalk. Happy, happy times that will build sweet memories.