Childhood Backyard(s)

This entry is response to the following journal's question of the day:  http://journals.aol.com/promiseluv372/TheJournalJar

Describe your childhood backyard:  Did you do yardwork?

We never moved when I was growing up, but there are three backyards I remember quite fondly.  They are the following:

Home/California:  I had one backyard during my entire childhood, and I guess I was pretty lucky.  It hasn't changed very much since then either.  There are still a few fruit trees, and of course the over grown lemon tree at the corner.  The large orange tree my father had planted, has been replaced by numerous rose bushes and two apple trees.  The vineyard that used to cover the entire background that would cover are little picnic table is now clear across the other side of the backyard.  The hole where the tetherball used to be is still there, and the backyard steps are still painted from the last time my father painted them. The ivy is growing on the fence is still there, and it is probably the only reason why the 45 year old fence is still standing.  I remember many days in the backyard as a child, not doing yardwork, but snapping leaves off the hydrogena and dropping them in big buckets of water pretending to fish.  I remember blowing dandelions, and making wishes, and being frightened of the casual lizard that would creep out from the hedges and the lemon tree.  My father was usually in the backyard, and even today, when I sit out there on the steps, I can still imagine him there.

Grandma's backyard:  My grandmother's bacykard was a fascinating place.  Whenever I would come over to visit I would go directly behind the hydrogenea bushes to spy through the holes of the fence she shared with her neighbor.  Her neighbor gave swimming lessons and if you looked through the holes of the fence you could see the pool and the various floating animals looking back at you.  It was almost looking inside a magical imaginary zoo.  The aqua blue water of the pool bounced off the fiberglass above and gave out a beautiful  blue hue on the faces of the plastic animal faces of zebras, monkeys, ducks and seals.  Another favorite place in her backyard was the cellar.  The cellar had a dirt floor and was directly underneath the foundation of the house.  In it my grandmother had boxes and boxes of old magazines, books and garden tools.  It smelled moldy, and musky, and it was dark, but I used to remember enjoying sitting there listening to the conversations above, and hear the creaks from the footsteps walking about.  "Have you seen Julie?"  I also remember thinking that my brother used to live there.  (I have an older brother who died before I was born.)  His toy sit in street car sat there alone and rusted in the corner of the cellar.  I was always too scared to touch it, and I never did.  My grandmother did the yardwork in her background, and I lovingly remember her wearing her scarf and straw hat when she was out gardening.

In the Azores: Many summers were spent in the Azores while growing up.  When we were there, we would stay at my mother's childhood home.  My mother's backyard was narrow and long, seperated by two cement and rock walls on eachside.  There was always a nieghbor outside either hanging clothes, washing clothes, feeding chickens or gossiping.  "Olha, os americanos foi a praia ontem.."  If you hung out your swimsuit and beach towel out on the line, sometimes it was the main subject of conversation in the neighborhood.  Maybe a little too close for comfort.  At the end of the backyard, there was an empty old pig pen made of stone, and in front of it was a beautiful fig tree.  My step-grandfather used to take great pride of that fig tree, and was the main caretaker of the backyard when were were away.  My cousins and I loved climbing on the tree and swinging on the branches when he wasn't looking.  I also remember pretending to wash clothes in the old "pia" near the stairs leading to the backyard.  A pia is a large stone looking sink that my grandmother used to wash clothes in.  I thought it fun washing clothes in it, and as a child I remember sitting in it and washing the sand off of myself after a day at the beach.