But where do you GET this stuff from?

[lizwilliams]

A discussion elsewhere on suitable outings for children has made me start remembering some of the things I did as a child. I was brought up in a very ordinary household in Gloucester in the 70s: we didn't really have theme parks then and I don't think my parents would have gone near Disneyland. I first went abroad on a school trip when I was 10, to Lisieux, but we didn't have foreign holidays because we couldn't afford them, like many people in the UK at that point. We went to Wales a lot and it rained, a lot. We went to a great many castles and I was encouraged to run about on the battlements as long as I was careful.

My parents took me to see, among other things:

- a dead whale pickled in formaldehyde on the back of a low loader (some bloke had found this on a beach in Norfolk and with great enterprise, decided to take it round the country). I thought for years that I might have made this up, but it seems it was real.

- on board a minesweeper. I don't know where this was or why we went, but it was fascinating. I think my mother wanted me to see what kind of experiences my grandfather, a ship's engineer, might have had. It was oily and humming and slippery and grey.

I was regularly taken into pubs from an early age. Our local was a huge square building that used to belong to Baroness Orczy, of all people, and once the landlord let me into the cellars. That was fascinating, too, although it left me with a very odd memory of the actual size of the pub - I still can't quite reconcile the average-sized bar with the huge, cathedral-sized place it was to a child.

And I was allowed to read what I wanted, including my dad's large collection of Lobsang Rampa (remember him?), Hermetic magic and general occult fiction.

I don't know whether this has made me a hopeless lunatic or a fundamentally well adjusted person - those of you who know me will have to make your own minds up! I am not a parent, so can't possibly comment with any authority, but I think there are a lot of things from which children should be protected, and a lot from which they shouldn't. I suppose it depends on the child. I was a cautious, reserved kid and I'm still pretty cautious, especially when it comes to physical risk.

I still like Wales, and rain.

Comments

[lamentables.livejournal.com]

I share your experiences of an ordinary household and holidays in the rain in Wales. I do not share your experiences of dead whales, minesweepers or pubs. I feel cheated.

[pogodragon.livejournal.com]

I saw that whale, or maybe another one that someone else found and pickled, it came to Nottingham as well, it was on the Forest for a few days, the Forest which has no trees, but an annual Goose Fair.

[ianmcdonald.livejournal.com]

this is tremendously rich vein you're tapping here. Small strange wonders on childhood holidays. My parents used to go to the Isle of Man (we flew, about twenty minutes from Belfast but it seemed positively transatlantic.) I remember being taken to the Witches' Mill in Castletown; an old windmill fileld with withcraft paraphernalia and odd little tableaux with stuffed cats and circles painted on the floor --thirtysomething years on I realise now it was Gerald Gardner's own collection. Thaks for giving me half an hour's pure and perfect pleasure in recollecting those instances of holiday weird.

[carl-allery.livejournal.com]

Wales in the rain. Scotland in the rain. Cornwall in the rain. Do you start to see a theme, developing? :) Also no dead whales or minesweepers, but sailing, canoeing, fishing, winkling, walking coastal paths, climbing mountains, exploring abandoned mining villages and riding the Talyllyn railway. Oh yes, and castles to go with the ubiquitous pillboxes.

[coyotesequoia.livejournal.com]

With our two boys, we exercised our ability to offer advice to a far greater extent than our more limited ability to control and protect. I think it has worked out well.

As to whether you are a "hopeless lunatic or a fundamentally well adjusted person" ... I can say, with a certain level of approval, that I've seen signs of both. I would hope that you have a good dose of each.

[klwilliams.livejournal.com]

I remember running around in a pack with the neighborhood kids, doing things like exploring the haunted house (a partially burned abandoned house in the neighbor) or going on an impromptu walk through the mountains to find a rumored swing rope. My mother was a professor, so in the summer when she didn't work we went for long drives across the U.S. to visit relatives. My grandmother's farm had rattlesnakes and water moccasins living on it, and I once saw her blow up a snake with her double-barrelled shotgun.

[morgan-dhu.livejournal.com]

Lobsang Rampa! Now that opens up a drawerful of memories I haven't looked at in a long time. I read a great deal of occult material, some of it of questionable provenance, starting at a fairly young age - although I had to go looking for it, it wasn't in my mother's library.

Although she did let me read anything on her shelves, and as she was a clinical psychologist, that gave me access to some fairly strong stuff at an early age.

[manmela.livejournal.com]

No you are not making it up. I remember the whale in a trailer as well. I think I saw it at either Portsmouth or Littlehampton

Didn't do a mimesweeper but I seem to remember at a open day in Portsmouth when I went on board a moored submarine with my grandfather

[mt-yvr.livejournal.com]

Having been born in a very landlocked area of Canada our summer holidays that included trips to the house in Nova Scotia always seemed to put me in a whole other category of person. Growing up many people I knew hadn't left the county, let alone the province.

We used to be set free and the parents would look out for us once a day, pretty much. Beaches were free range, and generally empty. We'd all walk in a ragged line (sometimes barely able to see each other in the distance) exploring the sand and stone and surf for hours. I remember it wasn't uncommon to go 3 hrs in one direction before stopping for lunch.

I was often left to my own devices. Hours and days spent alone in the woods and out in the middle of nowhere. I remember a LOT of time spent getting over the fear of leaving sight of the house and suddenly... one day... I realized I was in love with the spaces that felt completely my own. Those spots on the land that I would stop and wonder, who had walked here before. What had they done. What had they built and why. There were a lot of half ruins of older farms and odd mounds of stone obviously from torn down ... somethings.

I rocked climbed. I ran through woods with bear and wolves. And coyotes. I remember, actually, wandering along a cliff and suddenly realizing I was standing in the middle of a bunch of coyote dens. Some of which were occupied.

I'm a firm believer in building skills in children, not restricting them to safe experiences. Ultimately it seems to leave us with adults with no real coping skills and the real world is a right bitch about slow learners.