Everybody is Talking About...Favorite Childhood Memories

My Brother, Barry and I at Duxbury Beach 1959

The Beach, Parades and Hoodsies
A recent visit to my cousin's home created an avalanche of childhood memories.  We laughed ourselves silly, remembering our antics together and with our other cousins. 

As I reminisced, later, I realized that there are recurring themes in my memories.  The beach, parades and Hoodsies all hold a prominent place in the slide show of my formative years.

The beach was just three blocks from my home growing up.  I swam before I could hardly walk!  Some of my happiest times were playing in the sand at the L Street Bathhouse in South Boston.  

The Bathhouse was built thanks to James Michael Curley, Mayor of Boston, back in the day and was divided into three sections - the boys', men's and women's bathhouses. My mother, one of the first women life guards in Boston on a public beach, took us to the "L", as it was fondly called, almost every day in the summer.  

I remember leaving early in the day with a lunch backed and stored under the baby carriage along with pails, shovels, towels and a huge Army blanket. Like a band of traveling tinkers, we would march down the street with all our paraphernalia for a day at the beach.  We would play for hours regardless of whether the tide was in or out.  (Most of us kids loved low tide, because we could dig in the sand and create massive castles.)

The second theme - parades - ranked a close second on the favorite memories scale.  Being a child of Southie, the St. Patrick's Day Parade was in my blood.  I don't remember ever not going to the parade.  Momma had our spot at the corner of L and Broadway.  We would sit on the curb, clapping and cheering as the bands and floats went by.  Sometimes, politicians would stop to talk to Momma.  I didn't know who they were, or that they talked to everyone they hoped would vote for them, I simply thought my Mom was very important.

The final theme - Hoodsies - threaded its way through both the beach and parades.  Hoodsies are a local treat of vanilla and chocolate ice cream in a small waxed cup, which was always accompanied by a wooden spoon.  

We loved to let the ice cream get all soft so we could swirl it around in the cup and then drink it.  Hoodsies at the beach cooled you down.  Hoodsies at the parade, which was held on or around March 17, were a promise that warmer days were ahead.

So, why am I waxing nostalgic today?  Because I am part of a Blog Party/Tour to kick off author, Steena Holmes' new book, Finding Emma.  The tour will run June 4 --29 with a guest post here on June 12.

Steena Holmes

 In the meantime, here is the synopsis of the story to peak your curiosity.

Finding Emma has quickly become a bestseller. Proceeds from each book will be donated to The Missing Children's Society of Canada - an organization dedicated to reuniting families. Visit www.mcsc.ca for more information. 

If you comment on today’s post on this blog or any of the others participating the Everybody’s Talking About Favorite Childhood Memories day, you’ll be entered to win a signed copy of Finding Emma! 

To read Steena’s about childhood memories and view a list of other blogs participating in the Everybody’s Talking About Favorite Childhood Memories day please visit The Muffin (http://muffin.wow-womenonwriting.com/

A Story of Hope, and a Mother's Unending Devotion: Emma has been missing for two years. When Megan takes a photo of a little girl with an elderly couple at the town fair, she believes it to be her missing daughter. Unable to let go, she sets in motion a sequence of events that could destroy both families’ lives. 

Check out the Women on Writing blog for more information and a list of blogs on the tour.


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Steena Holmes said…
Growing up so close to the beach as well, it's amazing how crucial it plays in our memories ;) Thanks for sharing these and for joining in on the fun! The woodsies caught my attention for sure as soon as I saw the word chocolate :)
J.C. Nierad said…
Some interesting history tied in with your memories! I like how you remember thinking your mom must be important if the politicians stopped to talk with her. Thanks for sharing your memories. J.C.

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