The other day I hung out with my old friend, Angela. We were neighbors when I was about 4 and 5 years old and she was 6 and 7. We were remembering the good ol' days. When our moms would turn us loose to the world and wouldn't bother with us till dinner.
This drawing represents one of our finest memories of that time. It was our club house. It was an area behind the apartments we lived in where people would throw away all their junk. So we had ant covered furniture and old food cans, all the things a kid would need to pretend they had their own house. And in the corner is a hole in the fence where Angela's shoe slipped through and fell 2 stories down and we spent all day yelling down at passerbys to throw the shoe back up, but I don't think anyone ever did.
We were such sophisticates.
