Go Out and Play

8/19/2015

The Lay of the Land

By Lyn Messersmith

Go Out and Play

            Remember when your parents used to order you to just go out and play? Most of the time, I didn’t need to be prompted for that; escaping out the door as soon as my chores were done to climb the tree back of the chicken coop and make a playhouse under the branch that shaded the roof. Sometimes I jumped in the grain bin, dug in the mixture of corn and oats, pretending it was sand, and I was at the beach. I climbed dividers between stalls in the horse barn and peeked into barn swallow nests, careful not to touch anything, because Dad claimed the parents wouldn’t return if there was any human smell. In spring and early summer, the neighbor kids and I caught carp in the creek and fed them to the chickens.

            After the circus had been in town I walked a tightrope, (the top rail of the corral) or played trapeze on a swing that hung from rafters in the cow barn. I climbed the big hill behind headquarters and looked to Brownlee, seven miles distant, or the tree groves that marked three neighboring ranches to the west. Pretty rocks I picked up on the gravel road became families, when I dug homes for them in a blowout bank.

Summer afternoons were for riding to neighboring ranches and hanging out with friends, but just as often, I bridled whatever horse was in the corral for wrangling milk cows and rode bareback through the meadows to breathe in sweet clover and mint, or pick wildflower bouquets that always wilted before I got them home to Mom.

I suppose being an only kid cut down on the necessity for my parents to banish me from their space in order to gain a bit of peace and quiet, and when I was indoors I generally had my head in a book. (Some things never change.) But on occasions when cousins or friends came for extended visits, or at neighborhood picnics and card parties, we could, and did, get a bit rowdy indoors, and then the command would be emphatically issued, accompanied by a finger pointing to the door. “YOU KIDS GO OUT AND PLAY. NOW!” And we never argued. If the weather was inclement, there was always the barn to explore, but after following our dads around to do feeding chores we were pretty much immune to cold, and generally found sleds or skates to keep us busy.

My cousin remembers that when we got underfoot in Mom’s kitchen, claiming boredom, she made mustard sandwiches and sent us to the pine tree grove for a picnic.

These memories make me curious. Do you still go out and play? Are you a fisherman, golfer, rodeo contestant, rock climber, or swimmer? Do you bicycle, walk, run, jog, garden, or build stuff for fun? Did you make a run to Sturgis? Are you a card player or puzzle expert?

And what about your kids—do they have to be pried away from the electronics and threatened with dire consequences to get them moving? Perhaps they’re involved in half a dozen summer camps and activities, so they get lots of exercise. That’s good, but I want to draw attention to the activities mentioned in my childhood. Notice that none of it was organized or supervised by adults, in fact the whole idea was for the adults to get us out of their sight and hearing. Admittedly, we didn’t relish any interference from them either. Our imaginations got as good a workout as our bodies. I think play is kind of like walking that tightrope. Balance is the key to unlocking our joints and our brains, and it’s good for the heart too.

The youngest batch of grandkids spent a few days with us recently. We did some fun stuff, gave them some chores, and rode herd when it got out of hand. The last night, we roasted marshmallows in the back yard. A large moth came out of the dusk and entertained us by sampling nectar in the flowerpots. When I put hoses away after giving the flowers a drink, the kids got them back out and had a half hour water war. This old lady didn’t interfere in the good clean fun, and the belly laughs I got from watching were the best medicine I’ve had lately.

Send the kids out to play. And once in a while, go join them. How long since you had a water fight?