“Say, say, say playmate, come out and play with me
And bring your dollies three
Climb up my apple tree
Look down my rain barrel
Slide down my cellar door
And we'll be jolly friends, forevermore."
I've been racking my brain for a week now for these lyrics for this childhood song. My computer friend Siri was no help. But finally tonight, the beginning came back and Google brought me the rest.
My apple tree as a child was actually a weeping willow with a treehouse. When you grabbed the willows from the treehouse floor, you could soar into the air.
My dollies were seven, not three. One kisses you when you raise the left arm. Chatty Baby still says Mama and Bye bye.
I actually used to have a cellar door, but alas no rain barrel. I didn't slide down the door though, probably because I used to jump off the house roof instead. I did however sled down the snowy alley hill in the winter.
Playmates were the neighbor kids just like me that liked to go outside and swing, jump, slide and play with dolls.
I still try and play when I can grab some time. Whether it's hiking in the woods, or catching a ball in my glove, playtime is essential for feeding my child within. I don't think I've ever outgrown my childhood. It stays with me urging me to get off the couch, put down the phone, and turn off the TV.
Go out and play, my inner child says, and I do.
Going up to Wisconsin over the 4th of July, I could see that I am not alone in wanting playtime.
Boats, canoes, kayaks, four-wheelers, and vans full of kids and adults alike went with me North.
Escaping to the outdoors is refreshing. Pools and lakes can revive us. Trails lead us out and back.
We find treasure that we cannot name, but it's gold and silver to our spirits.
Don't bury the treasure that you find, share it with your "jolly friends" and then go back out to play again.
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