It was a late Sunday afternoon. I, Caroline Wilson, my sister, Cathie Wilson and my two elder brothers, Lyndon and Leon Wilson were having fun. Our uncle Jed was at an office party which we couldn’t attend. I was the youngest of them all. We were making ice cream.
All of the clips in this sequence are in black and white and the quality is of an old film-reel projector. The director then cuts the camera to an establishing shot of a block of flats, with a popular song playing, which is non-digetic. There is then a sound-bridge and the next shot is of the family’s kitchen, where the song changes to a digetic sound and it sounds as if it is coming from the radio. The scene from inside the kitchen follows David as he complains about Ben finishing the cereal. David tries to steal some of his brother’s breakfast, but both parents tell him off.
The Swale looks intimidating Two evenings ago, I was looking at river levels and saw that the Swale amongst other things had been dancing around a nice level. Jack said he'd get me down the Swale before Christmas, I was having kayaking withdrawal... I made the proposal. The next morning Jack called to say it was too low, a no go. I was somewhat relieved.
Mornings like this were always his least favorite. Standing by the stop sign at the end of Westbury Lane, waiting for the school bus. So cold he could see his breath, and feel his bones rattle with shivers. His big brothers hand-me-down jacket had too many holes in it to be a sufficient heat source, and his thing cloth gloves didn't have half the finger tips. The only thing saving him on this frigid winter morning was the hunters orange beanie he stole from the lost and found the week before.
The bell clanged early, and the kids all rolled out of their old stained bunk beds, scratched their fresh mosquito bites, and crawled to the dining hall. On each table were small boxes of cereal, enough for each kid to have one box, but not enough that everyone could have the brand of cereal he wanted. There were Fruit Loops and Cheerios, but also more than a few boxes of the deadly dark bran stuff consumed willingly only by old people suffering from constipation. On the second morning, when the breakfast bell clanged, a mad footrace ensued. Kids sprung from their bunks and shot from cabins in the New Hampshire woods to the dining hall.
After nearly drowning in a sea of fans, families and Television workers I finally made it to my seat directly across from third base. “Strike” yelled the umpire as the nervous hitter swung away at the ball . Inning one had begun as I sat and watched the
Way up high, the foil was sparkling and the brown wrapper was so sleek, I couldn’t resist and it was a must-have. So in my determination to get the candy bar, I stacked several inner tubes on top of one another and cases of Publix brand water. Everything seemed fine until I reached the top… My four and a half year old weight had kicked in and was too much for my heap of stuff. When the inner tubes popped my hand knocked over the entire second and third shelf. Everything fell on top of me and all this commotion echoed throughout the entire store.
It really was quite exquisite though, the sight of children having snowball fights. There was always that feeling of complete childishness that came from having a snowball fight. Who knew if it was from the feeling of cold, melting ice down your clothes, or if it was from the feeling of superiority over all your mates after you had claimed victory? Whichever was the cause, it was a glorious feeling, that which I enjoyed immensely. When I got home around five in that afternoon, I was greeted by the smokey smell of chestnuts over the open fire, the mixture of spicy incense and aromatic cigar smoke, and the anticipated Christmas Eve lamb.
This was the day I was most afraid of because it meant I had to hit against a pitcher who was my age and after watching her warm up I could read that she was not completely in control of her pitches. When I stepped into the box and she made her wind up I already knew where the ball was headed and I simply took cover. That was the day I got a softball shaped bruise on my leg and also the day I received my junior varsity uniform. I finally made it on to the high school softball
Busy like a mall on Christmas week, I continually placed people in their beds and wondered to myself, why aren't they spending their day at the beach on this gorgeous summer day? Clearly fifteen-twenty minutes in a tanning bed is much more convenient then a whole day outside. Fake-bake was the way to go in 2007 despite the skin cancer warning because it was believed that tanning indoor or outdoor had just the same percentage of receiving cancer. Until four years later when science won the government over the once popular business of indoor tanning. Soon the tanning business would decrease as the government put a federal tax and raised the age limit so high as an awareness to those that indoor tanning is indeed health risky.