POTHOLDERS

"When I was older," at the time, those were my exact words. Guessing, my age was probably five but no older than six. Recalling that my aunts thought it was humorous, me so young talking and speaking about myself being older.

During my childhood, the Summers were comfortably warm, neither too hot nor extremely hot and humid. Being that we were in rural Central Pennsylvania, we spent a lot of time outdoors. Living on the side of a mountain, there was a valley between our mountain and the mountain across the way.

Outdoor games, Farmer in the Dell, Red Light, Green Light, Duck, Duck Goose, and Simon Says were a few that we played. We shoe skated on our pond in the Winter and sailed paper boats and watermelons on the pond in the Spring and Summer. In the Fall, we played softball, kickball, and dodge ball. In the winter, sledding, making snow angels, and playing snow fox, which was our made-up game, were some of the winter games we played. Catching tadpoles and grasshoppers, we were adventurous and engaged in our outdoor recreational activity.

Living at the end of the lane, our closest neighbor was my grandfather on dad's side. It was a half-mile to my grandfather's farm. With my dad's sisters and my aunts being two, four, and six years older than me, in many ways, it was like having three older sisters.

While we didn't have a lemonade stand in the country, our entrepreneurial business was imaginatively creative. Potholders! Loops and potholder frames were used in making potholders. Gathering at my house under the pear trees, everyone had a potholder frame and loops, except me. Making potholders appeared to be pleasurable at least to me, my sense of wanting to help was almost too much to bear.

With me being the youngest of the four girls, the older girls had experience making the potholders. Explaining that being the littlest, they had a better job for me. My curiosity and my mind were running a marathon. What was better than making colorful potholers? How could there be a better job than producing and making the kitchen necessity?

Confidently, they informed me that my job was to SELL the potholders, not make them. Intuitively, when it came to selling, my aunts knew that animals and kids could sell a product. They were wise beyond their years. Really, who could say no to a five-year-old?

Recalling my sales pitch, it was to ask, "How many potholders would you like?" Getting right to the point, my opening and closing with one sentence.

At fifty cents a potholder, it was the cost of a movie plus twenty cents for snacks or treats.

Deliberately, we went door to door. Usually, the lady of the house, who answered the door, upon hearing my question, would reply with their own question, "How much are they?"

Sweetly, my five-year-old voice uttered, "Fifty cents a potholder!"

Selling one or two potholders was fantastic; however, what we had to do was walk from one rural resident to another. Naturally, it would be a tiring day with a lot of walking for such a small reward.

Watching the potholders being made and selling them was a short-lived entrepreneurial pursuit, it was a childhood experience that will never be forgotten since it was my first job before babysitting in my teens.

As mentioned earlier, we were close in ages. Routinely, we went to movies together on Saturday nights. On Sunday afternoons, you could find us at Hecla Park.

Before school, we would wait at the bus stop together. While waiting for the bus, a game we played was king of the mountain. After school, we made the long trek home.

Obviously, we did a lot of walking and playing outdoors. With only three television channels, families watched their favorite programs together. It was the family's togetherness that is fondly remembered.

At the end of the day, if we weren't making potholders or on one of our imaginative adventures, you could find us outside playing Tag. Tag your it!

Writer's notes: Thank you for reading. You are appreciated. Recalling family, my musings of a time and place long ago.