Sk8er Grrl

In the 60's in Maryville, people were still allowed to burn leaves in their yards. We had one such fire when I was about five.

(One of my favorite stories around this time that I read over and over was about a neighborhood that held annual bonfires in the fall. All the leaves were raked and put into one huge pile. On this particular occasion, the local handyman snuck foil wrapped potatoes into the fire so that when it died down, everyone got the surprise of having baked potatoes.)

I don't remember the fire at all, but the next day I was outside playing in the yard. The ashes called to me. (No, this is not why I call myself Ash.) They looked so soft! So, into the remains of the fire I went, barefoot, of course, because that's how I always was.

The ashes were soft! Powdery. They felt good fluffing between my toes.

I walked around in there for several minutes until I got bored, at which time I left and started running around the yard. I'm not sure what I was actually doing, but one of my favorite activities was to run up and around the house as fast as I could until I got down to the lower yard at which point I would dive and roll then stand up and do it all over again.

Anyway, at some point I ended up in the front yard where my Aunt intercepted me. Whether or not she was reprimanding me, asking me to tell Mom something, or simply chatting, I don't know. What I do know is that at some point during the interlude, my feet began to hurt. I started kind of hopping from one foot to the next. This, naturally, aroused suspicion in my Aunt. I told her what I'd been up to. She took me home immediately.

OK, so I had burned the bottoms of my feet! I was able to walk on the ashes which were, apparently covering up burning embers, because the soles of my feet were so tough. I was able to run at top speed up and down our gravel driveway barefoot, and one of my personal challenges was to see how long I could stand on hot pavement in 90 degree weather. So I didn't feel the heat while I was walking around in the fire pit.

So why the title of this post, you ask? Wouldn't Firewalker have been more apropos? Well, maybe, but what I remember more than anything about this incident was this: because I couldn't walk and because I was not one to be able to sit still (the label ADHD hadn't been invented yet but if it had, I would've worn it proudly), I somehow got the idea to take one of Sissy's white leather indoor roller skates, sit on it, and scoot around the house. I remember quite clearly learning to turn corners and being able to whip around the house at a pretty good clip. I loved the sound of the wheels on the wood floor and linoleum.

I'm guessing everyone was relieved when I was able to walk again.