The thing is, we were a large family, with innumerable cousins, aunties and that sort of thing, so I did have kids to play with. The family got together every Sunday, for afternoon games, and a big family 'high tea'. All sitting around my grandmothers big walnut dining table. She could seat twenty people easily around that table, more, with chairs squeezed in. The spread she put on was something special too. In her youth, before marriage she was a cook in a big house. I mean a big house, in Norfolk, England. She was the epitome of a grandmother, round, and happy. Her little self, always wrapped in an apron, constantly busy. My grandfather was a smallholder. Which means he had land of his own, and he leased more. In effect, he was a farmer. The combination of owning their own cow, chickens, pigs, and fruit trees, and my grandmother being magic in the kitchen, resulted in some unique feasts. The spread was enormous, and she did the whole thing herself. A lord could have dropped in, and been well fed.
My mother, who was the daughter of the house, was one of eight. There were three sons first, then five daughters. My mother being the middle one of the girls. My grandmothers child bearing years went on until her mid forties, which makes it at least twenty five years of having babies. With no birth control to speak of. I think she did well to have only eight. She lost only one set of twins. As you can imagine, some grandchildren were grown up, before we were born. Many of the other grandchildren, were quite a bit older, than us too.
I say us, because I had a brother less than eighteen months younger than me. We were joined at the hip until school came along, then we were split into different classes, supposed to stay with boys, or girls respectively. It sounds like the ark now, but never the twain did mix back then, in that small backwater of a country place where we lived. Until then, I had been as bad as my brother, I could climb as high, or higher, run, or explore just as much. Pretend to be pilots, or explorers. Build dens, fish with rod, and line, paddle along the stream, catching tidlers in jam jars. Once we even scrumped fruit from the isolated orchard out the back. I wasn't a girlie girl, I was a tomboy, and no mistake. Fearless, was my middle name, I remember being at my happiest aloft in the top of the tallest tree. Perhaps, because I was supposed to take care of my brother, I was to be the responsible one. I was that too, I took my duties very seriously during those early years. It was just he, and I until school. There were 'almost grown up' boys about, but none our age. We had few neighbours nearby, and none with children. Except for those visiting my grandparents, who were a five or ten minute walk away. We actually lived with my grand parents for the first four years, my father being away in the army.
The only grandchild near our age, was an only child, and difficult. For some years, my best friend, and worst enemy. Looking back, I can see why, she had everything, she liked things done her way. What is it they say now, 'my way, or the highway!', yes, that was her. Of course I had my faults, being almost exactly one year older than she, I made sure she knew that, and reminded her often. For one week, once a year she had a birthday, and was the same age as I. She made the most of that too. Ahh the ways of children. When nine, or ten, and a quarter, was so much more important, and older, than those without the quarter.
School though, that was something else. It was a couple of miles away, and we had to walk it. Talk about excercise, we sure had plenty. That was the best part of the day though, that walk. So much to see, and do. I can't imagine how, or what time we got to school. The school itself though, was a lonely nightmare. I screamed, and cried so much that first day, they had to bring my older cousin in to hold me. She was fifteen, and I remember clinging on to her, like a monkey. I knew everyone there, their families knew my family. Yet no one wanted to be my friend. I don't know, perhaps we were the local Adams family, who knows. I was in an isolated nightmare for years. Dyslexic, thought stupid, and friendless. Not a happy state of affairs for anyone.
Life goes on, eventually I made one friend, when I was about eight. Another, when I was twelve, and went to the big school. I am still close to that girl, even though she stayed in Norfolk, and I moved around the world. We still communicate regularly. That's what real friends are like. They stick, no matter what, no matter how many years in between. Most important they don't judge. Not you, or your actions. Yes, I was a slow started with making freinds, but now, I have the best friends anyone could ever wish for.
Ahhh, there is so much more that I could say about friends. This could be another story, for another day, or a continuation. Ha ha. As for freinds with benifits, they seem to be all the thing today with the youngsters. But then what would I know, I read about these things.
What ever works, and if you trust someone to be a friend, with benifits, then that sounds like a real friend to me.
Power to you, and your real friends, may you have at least one, in every country in which you live, or visit regularly.
To friends! I salute you!
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