So yesterday. He said, “Hey, let’s go take a walk.” and I shocked myself and said. “Yeah, OK.”
Usually on a Saturday afternoon, I’m taking the time to veg out in front of my laptop. The kids are taking the time to nap, because sibling mess and argument has prompted me to send then in for a nap. But this Saturday afternoon is different. This Saturday afternoon we have both downloaded the Pokemon Go app and are absolutely itching to exercise our catching fingers. Especially after the awesome time the Chief had doing it the previous Friday. Click here to find out all about it.
While I spent a good part of the excursion with this view, by virtue of my shorter legs and stride, and idle meandering pace. I didn’t mind. I was feeling all nostalgic by the end of the first 50 yards and the view wasn’t half bad.
This is how I remember feeling when I was younger. Growing up on the other side of the island. Come summer time, before cable TV and internet connections. Before binge watching became a thing and the only thing I had to watch anyhow were the VHS cartoon movie tapes my uncle used to bring back from his travels, my father’s Lancelot Link compilation, and that tape of Dirty Dancing my Aunt had that I wasn’t supposed to watch.
While walking we passed under a laden Turtle berry tree. I remembered when we used to use Turtle Berries, and their gooey, sticky sap to stick all manner of sculpture together. Under that same tree was a little pool, which I forgot to snap, with some Kallie…uh Kaddie…Um Talapia, that children used to catch on our off time. Kids now a days don’t seem to have time for that kind of thing. We passed yards, and people many of whom, offered a cheerful hello. Country life…I had forgotten how polite and cordial my people can be.
We passed trees, most of which were on private property, but even though I didn’t test the theory, I’m sure nobody would have minded if we snagged a mango or a plumb.
It seems like no matter how small our piece of the rock is, we seem to always want to plant something on it. Every yard, has a tree, or a patch of cane, or a thicket of peas. Something, anything. It makes our homes look so picturesque. *Deep breath in, contented smile* The whole place, smells of earth and warmth and comfort. It’s nice, I often complain about missing where I grew up. This part of the island being a bit more urban than the bush I’m accustomed to. But as we travailed pathways off the main road in search of Pokemon, it was almost like I was back in my element.
We passed a sugar mill. I had to explain what it was to our 4 year old. Who I’m proud to say only needed a few yards on his Dad’s back during the whole journey.
You never really understand difficult until you have tried to explain something like that to a 4 year old. In the end I didn’t tell him that it was a monument to colonial times and the struggle of our forefathers. I just told him they used to use it to make sugar, and he seemed pretty OK with my answer for once. Maybe we’ve found a way to tucker him out. Happy dance.
I also figure that it being a historical site, it may very well end up being a Pokestop. Which means more people will come and learn from it. Maybe that will prompt someone, maybe even me, to initiate a cleaning down or the shrubbery around it, and all the others. Maybe make them into little park spaces. It’s an idea I’ve heard a lot of people play with, but maybe Poke Tourism and leveling up will be the motivation we need.
By the end of the jaunt, we were half way to hatching a 5k egg, we had appreciated the panoramic vista offered by the south side of the island. We were planning other excursions, and we were well exercised. More so than we have been on any Saturday afternoon in the recent past I can remember.
I can see lots more possibilities for us to go native here. I can see lot’s of family Pokejaunts in our future, and it feels great. Why did I stop traipsing around the country side again?