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 liveinspired 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
photo by ldyckScrolled down to the bottom to see if you guessed correctly...
