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Showing posts from January, 2018

Don's Memoirs

POP GUNS, TRICYCLE RAMPS, AND BOWS AND ARROWS I don't remember how old I was, but I was quite small. For some reason I was staying with my aunt Elsie, who was married to an antique dealer. She lived in Sellersville in what I think was half of a twin Victorian house. I don't know why I was there. I don't think it was because my sister was being born because if that were the case I would only have been about six and a half years old years old and I am pretty sure that I was older than that. I think I was about eight years old. Maybe my parents, who would have been in their mid to late thirties when I was eight years old, went on a vacation of some sort and farmed their four children out to various relatives. Then again, perhaps I was only about six years old. The thing I recall most was that I was allowed to use a very small rifle, about 15 inches long, that shot corks at little celluloid birds that sat on a wire strung between two small posts. I would lie on the f