Wheels make the world go round -- sometimes

I am sitting at my computer where I can look in three directions outside. Usually in one of those directions there will eventually be something going by on wheels. Today I saw the dust of the school bus, but didn't actually see the bus. For heaven's sake it was 7 a.m. who has their eyes open at 7 a.m. except those poor children who have to meet the bus at 7. (I went through five or more years of getting Marilyn to the road for the same reason and I didn't like it then either.) Of course some of them go back to sleep in the bus, but more often I would feel like I needed to get busy since I was already up. But today I just saw the dust. A little later I heard my friend's car as she came to help me out, but I didn't see it either. I was not here by these three windows. So I guess, I will just have to wait a little longer to see some wheels.

But in the meantime I can think about those wheels I enjoyed throughout my life. I remember my kiddy car that I could push around the house. I'm sure it wasn't new to me, but I called it mine. I loved pushing dolls or cats around in my doll buggy. That was a favorite in town or in the country. Many years later I enjoyed pushing my niece, Judith, around her neighborhood in her carriage while the neightbor girls followed and begged for a turn. I would not let anyone else touch her or her carriage. She was mine for the moment.

Roller skates were the big thing when I was young. (well I would still enjoy it but ...) I would skate to school and put my skates under my hook in the cloakroom to be ready to go home, report to Mom, get my snack and take off roller skating again up and down the hills on Fessenden and River Road. I could jump curbs and not lose a bit of the ice cream on top of the cone I just bought at Wisconsin Avenue. That was as far as I would go, because there was too much traffic on some of those streets.

I was once left behind when my older siblings roller-skated around Haynes Point near the Lincoln Memorial. They used my skates however, but the next time I got to go with them on this nighttime excursion past history.

I loved sledding but they had no wheels. Later I had what they called a "Flexie" which was a sled on wheels. I loved it and nearly wore out mama's grass on in the terrace by the front door, riding down this embankment while standing on Flexie.

I didn't get a bicycle until after Ellen had received hers, but when we both had wheels there was nothing to hold us back. We rode miles on those bikes, as well as ran errands for mama. I even brought mine to college with me and used it often. (I came in a car, but the bicycle was on the front bumper!)

I skipped by cars, because I seldom got to drive our one car, but it was my self-appointed job to turn the car around after someone had unloaded at the front gate. I'd drive down around the two corner posts, through the barnyard and around the water tank to bring it back to a convenient spot near the front gate. Since I had learned to drive at 11 that was no big deal, but certainly did test my skills.

Now I am using a different set of wheels. They aren't much fun, but it makes some of my loved ones happier if I am using them. They are called "Walker." Mine does have wheels on two of the legs and I do have a fancier one to use for long spaces, if I ever go anyplace I can even sit down in it. It has four wheels on it and hand brakes. That tempts my childhood memories to try them out down some hill but fortunately there are no hills in our house.

I know what the next step will be in my wheeled history and I don't particularly like it. On the walker at least I have some self-control as to where I go, but unless I have a mechanical wheelchair, I would be dependent on someone else guiding me. But I shouldn't worry too much. I'm not going that far anyway these days.

I have enough challenges staying on my feet between the wheels of my walker. I better not complain, there are many people younger than I who would love to have even my freedom, so I am just enjoying sitting here among my memories of wheels, and staying put.

But with a good memory, you don't ever have to stay still, or stay home. Ah, finally I saw a car go by. It was the mailman. Isn't it great when the high point of your morning is seeing the mail pass by? That opens up a whole new world with the news and letters, so those wheels take me away again.

Whee! Hang on!