The joy of being ten years old
The joy of being ten-year-old and waking on a Saturday morning, no school. Adventure day lays in wait, from downstairs the aroma of toast floats in the air. Down I go ready for anything that today will bring, Mother gives me the look, before giving me a couple of slices of toast, the usual warning, "do not spread the butter as if it is ice cream". By that my Mother meant too thickly.
There were several challenges waiting in the wings for me today, I had worked out how to climb onto the roof of our home, without ladders. The rear of the house was built into a hillside, making it easy to use my monkey like skills to clamber up and onto the roof.
If my Mother had seen me, I would have been grounded for some considerable time. As for my Father, I will explain his seeing me, in a moment.
The views are amazing from the rooftop, I hold onto one of the chimney stacks for support while I study the views before me. My Fathers voice from the front garden below, "be careful up there" he called, he smiled and shook his head, before giving me a clap for my efforts and skills in climbing onto the roof, he then made the following facial signs to me. He covered his eyes, he covered his ears, he then covered his mouth before walking away whistling his favourite songs.
Fathers and Sons, a special bond when it comes to what to allow and what to frown upon as far as my adventurous spirit was concerned.
My attention turned to Swansea town that sprawled before me, I realised that I could see the area where my Grandmother lived. As the crow flies it did not seem that far, if I walked there, it would normally take about half an hour. I studied this as the crow lies route and thought that I would give it a try, todays adventure all sorted.
My Father busy in his shed, my Mother cleaning through the house, I climbed down off the rooftop and went to tell my Mother I was off out to play. The usual lecture, "where are you going and who will you be with". I told a little white lie or maybe a big not white lie, "just going for walk Mam" and off I went.
I stopped at our front gate and thought through what I had seen from the rooftop, away I go. A few minutes later I arrived at my first obstacle, my short walk was halted by a high wall that stretched for miles. I studied the wall and spotted a doorway, a sign on the door, “Trespassers will be prosecuted”, as a ten-year-old I did not really know what a trespasser was. I opened the door to reveal a large downhill grass embankment that led to several railway tracks.
I clambered down the embankment, no thought as to where the railway lines led to. Off I went across the railway lines, arriving at a large open deserted landscape, no sign of any one around as I continued my journey.
Then I stopped as a bridge came into view, no water to be seen, the bridge was my way onward. There had once been Docks there, where ships came and went in the Industrial area of Swansea. I crossed the bridge, yet more large expanses of land, this time surrounded by a high chain fence. Inside the fence was a scrap yard, pieces of iron and timber all stacked neatly. Another sign about trespassers was attached to the fence, on I went. My next target was the massive archway that passed under the main railway lines into and out of the Town. The archway was also the way to my Grandmother’s home. As I walked alongside the fence, I became aware of a noise behind me, I turned to look, nothing there. The sounds behind me continued, I stopped, the sounds stopped. My streetwise senses came to the fore, do I run or turn and look once again. I turned, there no more than a couple of yards away were two rather large dogs, they were what I knew as Alsatian’s.
They both sat down and studied me; their heads were doing what dogs do when they are not sure about what is going on. They continued moving their heads from side to side as they studied a ten-year-old standing before them. Choices, run as fast as possible or stand my ground, I choose the latter. I spoke to the dogs, "What are you two magnificent ones doing out on your own"? This caused them to wag their tails as they stood and came closer to me. I held out a clenched fist to each of them, no fingers, they may bite them off, they gave my hands a lick, I continued my chat with them, they seemed to be listening as if they understood every word I said.
A high-pitched whistle broke the air, their ears stood to attention, coming towards us was a rather large man. What are you two up to he said to the dogs, they simply wagged their tails.
"What do we have here"? he said to me, "these two scallywags are supposed to be guarding my scrap yard, they have obviously found a way out". "As for you young man, what are you doing out here on your own, my dogs certainly like you, thank goodness for that".
I explained my journey, to my surprise he knew my Grandmother, "off you go young man, say hello to Rose for me", my Grandmothers name.
Off I went under the creepy railway archway, the arch itself was at least 50 yards long. It was also known as a place not to go after dark, homeless people gathered there. I did not see many people around during my continued trips to my Grandmothers home. Those that were waved and shouted out a greeting to me. My acknowledement made them smile, someone actually cared about them.
I arrived at my Grandmother’s home at last. Always a great welcome as well as food, I do believe that Grandmother thought it was her job to feed me.
To my surprise my Mother appeared, after the customary hugs and kisses for her Brothers and Sisters, she gave me the look. The look that meant, grounded, my Grandmother spotted the look, she gave me a hug. "No, now Betty", my mothers nickname, her name was Elizabeth, "he meant well", sorry to say, my dear bedroom awaits my presence. The grounding can wait for a short time, my Mother and her three Sisters always practised the latest dance steps, it was a joy to watch. Rest in Peace Mam, you can dance the days and nights away, your favourite dance partners are there with you.
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