#34 " My Kansas Childhood Day in the 50's" By Susan Pearl

It is remarkable how important fish are in my childhood memeories of a day outside in Kansas,
With no rivers, no farm ponds or lakes in sight I had the summer delight of skipping to see nearby fish.
In the 1950's peaceful backyard goldfish ponds were the rage,
Across the alley was a beautiful goldfish pond in the backyard of the neighbors.
I merrily went across the alley and was transported into the fascinating world of watching gleaming goldfish swimming and entertaining me.
The neighbors on the North corner of our block had a minnow farm in their backyard,
So after viewing the mesmerizingly lovely glittering goldfish surrounded by cement and  decorative rock,
I would skip and walk down the trash barrel alley to the North end of the block.
There were at least nine oval stock tanks with tiny darting minnows swimming so rapidly about,
Another stock tank held a single huge catfish swiming back and forth as if looking for a way out.
This could have been a business tactic because when people saw the big catfish they may have bought more minnows in hopes to catch a big catfish, too.
Then back home to help hang clothes out to dry on the clotheslines.
The first and second lines closest to the street were made into screens by the hanging of our sheets.
No one from the sidewalk or street would dare see our underwear or worst of all our mother's bra.
Oh, the fear of seeing a brassiere from anywhere.
Underwear was hung on the third of the four lines with another screen behind of towels, wash clothes, dish towels and dish rags hung on the fourth line.
The colored clothes were hung under the shade tree away from direct sunshine that could cause them to fade, unlike the memories of a day like this made that don't ever fade away.
Then after the clothes were hung the fun begun as I would run in beween the corridors of clothes flapping and snapping after me.
It was like a real race because with the waving clothes I felt like I was being chased.
No one would burn their trash if they saw another person had clothes on the line.
It was something no one had to ask-people were thoughtful about that.
But occasionally the neighbor who raised chickens would kill a chicken by chopping off its' head.
The headless chicken would get away from him and come runing into our backyard.
I liked swinging on my rope swing that was hung onto a tree limb,
If I would swing too high I would get the butterflies,
But there was something about a headless chicken running into our backyard that was disruptive to a birthday party playing 'Red Rover'.