Playmates (memoir) by Leanne Dyck

I was blessed to have fun male cousins to entertain me as I grew. 

This short memoir is a tribute to them. 

My photo of the street where I live

inspired me to share this link to one of my favourite songs.

The Street Where You Live sung by Dean Martin

Playmates

My playtime was enriched by three male cousins. One was a parkour enthusiast before parkour became a thing (in the 1990s). He would scale high heights and dangle precariously. Another, a sorcerer's apprentice, swallowed a piece of thread. He pulled one end of the thread out of his mouth and the other out of a nostril. As I watched, amazed, the thread see-sawed between mouth and nostril. The eldest of the three was the author of our playtime adventures. He instructed us to haul an old door to the slough. The door became a raft, and we sailed the seven seas.

On a different day, we were playing inside, and he told me, "We're cowboys, and we're going to ride off on our horses. But you stay here," he told me. "Scream when the bad guys come. We'll rescue you."

I waited, as directed. Judging it was time, I let loose a mighty scream.

My aunt raced in just before the boys did. "Are you okay, Leanne?" she asked.

"We're just playing," I assured her.

She frowned at me and my party of would-be rescuers. "Go play outside," and she added, "Play quieter."

So we ran outside to play superheroes. I was no longer a damsel in distress. Instead, I put my fists on my hips and shouted, "Wonder Woman!" Then I leapt into action—throwing my lasso of truth and deflecting bullets with my gold bracelets. Our invisible foes didn't stand a chance.

written in 2025

On this blog in May

Sunday, May 10

"Pregnant" (memoir)

Inspired by imagining how my dad reacted to my mom suspecting she may be pregnant with their fourth child—me.

Sunday, May 17

"Like Him" (memoir)

As a dyslexic student in the 1960s, school definitely had its challenges. Some were academic. Others were interpersonal.

Sunday, May 24

"CGIT"

Groups have shaped many aspects of my life. I had a fourteen-year career as an Early Childhood Educator caring for groups of children. In my twenties, I became a Katimavik participant and volunteered in three eastern Canadian provinces. And when I was twelve, I joined CGIT. What's CGIT? Well...

Sunday, May 24

"Don't Worry"

Written with much thanks to a friend who helped me believe in "happy ever after" endings.

Learning to Walk (short memoir) by Leanne Dyck

 When did you learn to walk?

I remember that day so clearly, but... is this my memory or my mom's?

May 1963

The day I learned to walk.

Learning to Walk

    "You were eighteen months old when you learned to walk."

    "Mom, that's so late. Most babies learn to walk around their first birthday. Weren't you concerned that there was something wr—?"

    "Oh, you could walk if you held our hands or the furniture. You just weren't brave enough to let go. But the day you turned eighteen months, your brothers were determined you would learn. They set up four stacking stools, end to end, down the centre of the living room and left a gap between the last stool and the sofa. One of your brothers—I can't remember which one, it doesn't matter—held your hands and guided you to the first stool in the row. You grabbed hold, and he joined the rest of us on the sofa. 

"With our encouragement, you started on your way—walking the length of the stool and grabbing for the next. Stool after stool until you walked the length of the last stool. You stood there facing us.

"And when you finally let go and walked... Well, such cheering. I'm sure they heard us one town over.

"I always knew you would walk. You just needed a reason. Your brothers, they gave you that reason."

Learning to Stand

Leanne Dyck

Before I could crawl,

I never dreamed I could walk

People carried me and

I was content in their arms

A few minutes ago I was in the Mayne Island library listening to a panel of writers discussing writing. I took notes and look forward to sharing them with you in the near future. 

Next Sunday...