I went through a Peter Pan stage because I wanted to fly. I used to pretend I was Tarzan when I'd swing across a ravine nearby on a big rope hanging from a tree. I used to be a pioneer woman with my friend and we'd stomp down the weeds in the prairie next door and make rooms and passageways.I used to crawl up into my grandmother's attic and put on all her old clothes from the 30s and pretend I was hot stuff.On rainy Saturdays when I was really young and not reading,I used to scatter papers all over my little desk and pretend I worked for a newspaper but the one thing I pretended more than anything else was that I was a cowboy. I loved cowboys...still kind of do.

I forgot about my Cowboy days. I once took a butcher knife
and hacked my mom's mop handle off and made a fine horse
with a real leather bridle I took the liberty of BORROWING
from my mom's belt collection.
It was a great horse, I rode it right alongside Roy, Dale
and Gene . Like you, Marda, I loved cowboys.
It was great fun.

I grew up in the old Radio Days where imagination had free reign. I was everything on Let's Pretend.

I used to walk to my girlfriends house on Sat morning with a can of Scotch Broth soup for lunch. We'd play "poor" in her basement with wild snowstorms and starving children to care for. Then in the summer (I was a tomboy and the only girl on my block)we'd play "fort" in the vacant lots, digging deep holes and getting ready for "war" with neighboring kids who never showed up!!

Snow ball fights defending the fortress, giant boxes from the new phone building next to the vacant lot made great mazes, speed skating to school on the ice in the ditches traing for the olympics and kung foo breaking apple crates (where I got that from in the '50s is a mystery).

Do you think the children of today use their imagination, or
are they too caught up in games and TV?

My grandsons are grown now but when they were little they
had a grand time with their imaginations.

My grandson is 13 and has all the tech stuff but still plays "fort" as Don did,builds things outside with his friends and pretends to be some kind of action person or other ( I get them all mixed up), and just a few years ago when outside in our woods,you could see him pretending to be all kinds of things. I really think if you give kids unstructured time and make them go outside,that imagination will fire up.I remember those big cardboard boxes and using them for houses or hidey places, and grandkid did the same thing with the appliance boxes we gave him when we redid the kitchen about 5 or 6 years ago.

My older sister had the best imagination and invented all kinds of games. Of course she was in control and I would do anything to get her to play with me. We had a family of plastic dolls, about an inch high, in a permenant sitting position. In the summer we built homes in the garden for them. In the winter we could take all afternoon getting them from the 2nd floor to the basement with pieces of string etc and amazing stories.

I was the more physical of the two, so on my own I played Tarzan and other adventurous type stuff. I too, was one of the few girls in the neighborhood, and the oldest of the gang. My sister was too old for this by now. We played stuff varying from war (even though I was the boss, since I was a girl, I didn't get a "real gun", but had to use a stick!) to building houses and playing animals.

We would play board games by the hours and invent new rules to liven things up.

Cowboys & cowgirls when I was smaller. It was the heyday of Roy Rogers, Dale Evans and Gene Autry. I had a small Gene Autry phonograph that played 45's, folded up and snapped shut like a little suitcase. My parents got sick of "Happy Trails". I always rode a palomino, nothing less.

It's a wonder I didn't become an architect because when I was a bit older the creative drive to build forts and especially tents kicked in. In the summertime we would be what I'll refer to as the "tent cities of Kubla Khan". They were complicated multi-room tents, furnished with all types of amenities. From inside the cozy confines of the tent we would pretend to be on adventures in Africa, Nepal or whatever exotic locales we were studying in school. My husband remembers doing the same and those imaginary adventures to far off lands is actually what has driven our love of eco and adventure travel.

Marda, you've mentioned something that I've noticed in our neighborhood. Very, very rarely in the 12 years I've lived here have I seen kids just hanging out, like you said unstructured time. Several times I've seen bicycles parked at the edge of the small wooded area across the street, knowing that great adventures were happening just behond the treeline.

My neighbor across the street is a sad commentary on todays parents and their kids. Last year, before school let out for the summer, he announced it was time to go to "Toys Are Us" for some summer time outside play things for his 8 yr old son. I so wanted to ask "why dont you just open the door and send the kid outside to play whatever????" Figures since these same parents spent approx $1000 on this kid for Christmas....all the while complaining how broke they are.
On the other hand my 12 yr old niece still plays "Harry Potter" in the barn...writing cryptic messages in the dust and flying around the barn in her magic cape.
I also spent many hours building forts for the enemy that never showed......major let down as we stored baskets of rotten apples up in the tree fort for the assault. The only kid that showed was Terry T with his busted BB gun.

Growing up we were 'scooted' outside to play all day long. We hollowed out the underside of the rampantly overgrown forsythia hedge into a warren of rooms and tunnels. Bricks were scavenged from my parents and the neighbors to create hearths and paths. Square holes were dug, lined with bricks and moss and carefully hidden with a dirt-covered board -that was where we kept our treasures... marbles, jars, pencils etc...

A stolen pack of matches would light a tiny carefully tended fire over which we would cook a witch-stew brewed in a tincan -a noxious mix of pokeberries, mushrooms and wild garlic. Okay, not considered safe by today's parenting standards.

When the lot behind us was wild and overgrown with tall grass we'd lay down in it and be amazed at the warmth and quiet below. I would make circular beds and pretend I was a rabbit. Later they cleared the trees from the lot into a huge pile in preparation for development. We'd climb on the tangle and pretend it was a pirate ship. After the bulldozing created dirt hills my older brothers dug deep holes covered with sheets of plywood. A chimney liner was used to make a working fireplace in the cave-home. It was heaven!

Daylong trips along the cornfields and hedgerows would yield gallons of black raspberries that Nana would make into raspberry custard pies. My brother and I would go on these expeditions alone from the time we were 10 or so.

Today's kids do have a harder time. Television, computer, organized sports and activities make it harder and harder to just plain play. Fear of abduction etc... keeps kids supervised outdoors.

I practice what I call benign neglect with my kids. We were never big television watchers and I give them art supplies that they are free to use as they choose. In Denmark, and PA they were free to come and go inside or out as I felt really very comfortable in those neighborhoods. Here in DE the neighborhood is not one that I can do that, and my MIL has 5 televisions that I can't ask her to keep off. I just keep telling the kids not to expect all-day cable when we return home. It's a 6 month experiment in immersion ;^P. I think there will be some withdrawal when we get there but they'll have the yard back to play in all day. Still, my kids can occupy themselves with shoeboxes, paper, string, sticks and crayons. I have had to pass a no stairs rule after DD rigged up a string accross the top of the steps as a barrier! There is always something tied up and hanging somewhere in the house.

I don't think I'll touch this one. Would be book length and in serial form.

Putting a sheet over the dining table and camping under there...it could be a teepee or a tent or even a house. Then taking that same sheet on top of the table and putting boxes or shoes or anything under it to make hills and mountains that my brother's lead toy figures could march up and down, fight over, gallop over. Molding plastacine fences and houses and people to live on those hills and in those valleys. Fashioning horses and cows and sheep for little model farms. Every person and every animal had a real life, names and all.

There were stories that came out of my Dad's imagination as he sat at the piano and illustrated his tall tales musically...crescendos rising as the story became more dramatic, fast fingers flying as the characters dashed about and escaped danger.

My time alone doing the washing up. I turned that kitchen into a big hotel and I was in charge of the whole place. Guests came to talk to me...I met movie stars and important people who came into the kitchen to chat as I wiped the dishes dry. My imagination took me far away from the dishes, far away from a sink with only cold running water, far away to glamorous people and places that I'd seen in films. I was sometimes the head cook - sometimes I was on the front desk, or the Manager - sometimes I was a guest. Our kitchen was like the Grand Hotel. As I recall, I always spoke out loud in these imaginary situations and I wonder now if my mother and father heard me and smiled.

I could spin my own tales too. As a very small child I often used to go to the corner shop talk to the owner, Mr. Dunn. I once told him that I had fallen down the toilet but that Sandy, our dog, had pulled me out and rescued me.

Some of the things in my imagination came true. Although I have never fallen down a toilet (:

When I was a kid there was a whole gang of kids in the neighborhood & in my memory it seems like we were always outside, charging around the neighborhood playing one imaginary game or another. We played "war" a lot, this being the 1950's & "the big one" had ended just a few years in the past and most of our fathers had served in one capacity or another. The boys, of course would be the soldiers with us girls relegated to the role of nurses.

When someone bought a new stove or refrigerator, the packing box instantly became a house or a store or something else to be a major prop in an imaginary game.

TV shows & movies also fueled our games. Specifically I remember playing "Flash Gordon" and reenacting the "Wizard of Oz."

I never really remember being indoors much unless I was sick.

The boys played war, but when they wanted me to be a nurse (I thought I should be the general) I refused to play.

We would put on a circus in the backyard, the "big tent" was sheets over the clothesline, admission was a button. I was the animal trainer ... my poor doggy was the lion with a petticoat around his neck for his "mane".

Snowforts ... and wool mittens dried on the heater ... gads the smell of wet wool.

Kickball in the street ... softball in an empty lot, with pieces of cardboard for the bases. The only kid with a bat would usually get mad and go home ... end of game.

Playing dressup ... walking down the street in our mother's wedding gowns trying to keep our balance on high heels. Bright red lipstick on our mouths and cheeks ... we were oh so glamorous !

Flying ... broke my wrist at five years old because Mary Martin was on TV (peter pan) and said if you really believe ... jumped off of garages, out of trees ... and although I really believed I could never fly !

Davy Crocket was my hero ... I had the complete outfit, down to the coonskin cap. I would explore the woods around the reservoir looking for "bear".

So many good memories ...

I lived in a city and in an apartment - long before even radio, I never even went to the movies much. My sister and I created our own plays. I remember using lace table-cloth and making elaborate stories about witches or princesses or whatever, and acting them out. That was when Mama and Papa were not home, they did not appreciate our using the lace table-cloths, wonder why?
I do remember in one apartment we had in our room two twin beds, my baby sister's crib, which was on rockers, and there was a wardrobe closet, very tall. My cousin was visiting from Switzerland, and we decided to play "stranded like Robinson Crusoe". Baby sister's rocking crib became the boat, of course, the wardrobe was an island and the mattresses from our beds were the ocean, we leaped into the "water" from the top of the wardrobe.
Mama really did not mind,as long as we cleaned everything up and put it back when she told us to. But we had such adventures until she told us to clean it up :)

It has been such fun reading about your imaginations as
children.
Some were much like mine, others like Minnie's "playing
poor", Sheila's "hotel manager" and beanmomma's "witches
brew" were quite different.

One thing about it, each one had a wonderful time and loved
playing outdoors. I loved being outside away from the
house, if I stayed inside, my mom or my step-dad would find
something for me to do and I would rather play than work.

It is amazing to me that I didn't break any bones when I
was growing up. Like Ohiomom, I was forever trying to fly,
climbing trees was second nature to me, just as leaping
from the house top and swinging on home made trapeze bars.
I got a lot of scrapes and always had big black and blue
places somewhere but I never had any broken bones.

My imagination let me escape into a world of my own
choosing. Away from a harsh and abusive step father and
into a place where I was in control. It was a wonderful
place to be.

I forgot about going down to the river and digging out clay.
We made boxes out of it, with an opening on one and and a hole in the top. Then we let it all dry out before we filled the box with dried grasses that we set fire to and ran off fast, holding the "clay engine" high so that the smoke plumed out behind us. This was really my older brother's game but I always tagged along if possible.

LOL! Trying to fly. I think every American kid who is now of a certain age watched Mary Martin as Peter Pan. We were always up trees & onto garage roofs. The first serious accident I had was falling off the front porch roof at our neighbors. Unfortunately I hit my head & must have been knocked out because the next thing I knew I was in the office of the doctor who lived at the corner & he was asking me "Do you know who I am?"

Sometimes I find it amazing that we all survived out childhoods.

When I was very small, we played Indians. Not cowboys-and-Indians, but learning how to track and decipher animal prints; how to throw a looped rope so it went over the fence post as we ran by (Da became a bit upset when we tried to rope the milk-cow); how to build a tepee that actually stayed up, and how to walk without making noise no matter what is underfoot (my boss swears I still do that).

I had a swing which hung from a huge oak tree growing on the edge of a hill. If you faced east while swinging, the high point would be 40 or 50 feet above the ground. Losing the seat would probably have killed us, but none of the kids ever slipped off.

I used to pitch hardball when there were enough available kids to make two teams (sometimes the catcher and I played for both teams); we all thought getting a new baseball glove was a big deal and the old gloves were patched up and passed along to the younger kids.

I was almost nine when I inherited bro-1's bike and his morning newspaper route because he went into the Navy and bro-2 didn't want to get up early. I saved every penny and as soon as I could, I bought a new Peugot -- I loved that bike; we traveled all over the county in my spare time. Back then, folks weren't worried about the safety of a young girl biking alone.

I read everything I could get my hands on. For a few years, a lady drove a library-van to the rural homes, and you could ask for specific books (delivered 2 or 3 weeks later) or check out up to 5 books from whatever she had in the van. I learned to sew by making doll clothes - I don't remember playing with the dolls, just hand-sewing elaborate wardrobes for them, often based on a character from a book. When alone and without a new book, I used to sketch or paint, or sculpt in clay.

In the summer, if one of the older bros was willing, we would walk or bike 5 miles to a deep creek and go swimming. Huge trees overhung the water on one side; only big kids could use a knotted rope to swing across the wide part before dropping into the water; but oh, the marvel of splashing in cold water when the temp was in the 90's.

In the winter, after homework and chores were done, we read or played games: chess, checkers, parchisi, chinese checkers, and every card game known except bridge-- mum and da had agreed that they couldn't play bridge without arguing, so that one game was never played; but we were all skilled at canasta long before learning to read books.

I know we had a radio, but it was usually only turned on in the early morning. My mum got a TV after she retired... just so she could watch the men walking on the moon.

You know, we just didn't have time to sit down and stare at the TV -- there was too much else to do that really was fun!

What do you mean when we were kids. I still am the hero of my own adventures, something like Aunt Irma.

I grew up on a farm. We had a big black and brown hound dog who adopted me; his name was Brownpaws. When I was teething I cut my teeth on Brownpaws ears. Our house was on a hill with a road at the bottom. When I started crawling I would crawl down the hill and when I got close to the road Brownpaws would pick me up by the diaper and haul me back to the house. I would wander all over and my mother figured I was safe with the dog.

I played at everything, cowboys, pionneers, pirates, but one tather odd thing I played with my sisters was church. My one sister was the preacher and she would string together every big word she had heard that week irregardless of meaning and shout them with greeat emphasis. My other sister was the song leader and we sang with great enthusiasm but little concern for either tune or words. Alas, as thhe youngest all I got to be was the congregation, I probably would have given up on religion if it were not for the cookies and grape juice. Although we did not know it at the time, I understand many of our mothers friends came to peep through the door and watch us, they thought we were a hoot!

Andie,your comment about wondering how we ever made it to adulthood made me think of my mother. Her youth was spent on the southside of Chicago. She wasn't exactly an orphan but close to it so had almost total freedom. She and my aunts would run over to where all the freight trains would come in and lay down between the rails and let the boxcars run over them. Trains were of course high up but good grief...I'm lucky I'm here if you ask me.

When I was nine I had a paper route, was paid 1/2 cent per paper and delivered 250.

Church ... lol ... I decided to play "priest" in mama's fruit cellar, the candle fell over and I darn near burned down the house. I was throwing glasses of water on it when daddy smelled the smoke ... third degree burns on my hands ... and a decidedly sore butt (from daddy's hand).

:)

My sister Alice was 5 years older and I remember most hanging around her from the age of four-five. Mom made a lot of our clothes on a portable Singer and Alice learned to hem and sew on buttons, then used fabric scraps for making doll clothes. She loved designing for one particular "lady" doll..I think it had been dressed in bridal gown originally. My sister was quite talented and drew paper dolls and costumes for them...usually elaborately dressed princesses or Victorian gowned ladies with huge feathery hats from book illustrations. I was then allowed to finish them with color pencils or water colors. Of course they all had names and marvelous adventures. My Mom would often join in...teaching us papermache for doll-size dishes and furniture, etc. It's the reason I still love a stash of fabric, ribbon and paper for projects of all kinds.

A favorite pastime was reading...often aloud while some project was being worked on by the others. Mom read the longer books like Tom Sawyer or Treasure Island while Alice and I preferred short stories. My favorites were all the Red, Blue, Green. etc. Fairy books and Alice in Wonderland. We learned all of RLStevensons' A Child's Garden of Verses which I can still mostly recite today.

Our main reason I think for working/playing so much together was our constant travel and frequent moves to follow my Dad from post to post during WWII. It was hard for Mom to feel comfortable letting us roam an unknown neighborhood...so she kept us busy around our own house. We often had to leave bikes, wagons and other toys behind when moving...art supplies were easily accomodated.

We usually lived in tiny towns with no movie theatre or interesting shops...with gas rationed there were no trips to nearby larger towns, so all entertainment was homebased. My Mom told me Army families during WWII were often resented when moving into an area because of overcrowding schools, etc. and causing raised rents/prices. I'd imagine it was just easier to draw together as a family since we'd be moving on soon anyway...it was a tough time I'm sure for my Mom feeling isolated in a new place.

It was not until my Dad went overseas and we lived in a very small farming community in VA that we were warmly "adopted" and were able to have good friends and feel at home running around the neighborhood. We finally replaced our bikes which we'd been unable to cart around with us...and I remember a small Army tent in the back garden my Dad erected before leaving...it was magical to have your own little "house" although all the neighborhood kids wanted to share it...lol

I was never as daring or as active as many of you... I do remember jumping rope and hopscotch but that's about it. I still prefer card or word games...another childhood pastime. Even charades...my Dad could fake us all out at charades. josh

Marda, OMG! I cannot believe that your mother did that! I'm sure they thought of it as some kind of kid's game, but that's the kind of behavior that would give any adult heart failure! I'm sure I gave my mother that feeling more than once during my childhood.