Wall Ball Memories

Posted on March 31, 2014 by Katelyn The Journalist

Image                 Outdoor brick wall. Photo by Katelyn Avery.

My elementary school years didn’t entirely revolve around recess, but those 15 to 20 minutes were amazing. At my school kids played a variety of games. Kick ball and basketball were really popular, but one game left the others in the dust. Wall ball was the kingpin of recess activities for those in fifth grade and below.

1 to 3 games would be going on at once. The walls were close together, so we had to stop the ball and then throw it, instead of slamming our hands against the ball like they were tennis rackets. Not many girls played. Sometimes it would just be me and the boys. I usually brought the tennis ball for that day’s game, but that wasn’t the only reason I was allowed to play. It wasn’t like TV, we didn’t believe in cuties or something like that. Boys and girls got along, and only a few recess activities, like football and jump rope, were gender separated.

Wall ball didn’t have any strength requirements. As long as you could reach the wall, and run when someone caught the ball before it hit the cement, you were fine. Even when you did get out it was all good. I would wait on the curb with all the other out kids. We loved to watch the game as well. The stakes were raised when it came down to the final two kids. They would both be really good, and we couldn’t figure out which one would win. Whoever won became the hero to all the out kids. Because of them we were released onto the court for a new game. At least two games would take place during one recess session.

There were days when we didn’t play for a win of course. Playing the game was enough sometimes. The end of fifth grade made outs and winners less desired. We were having fun and enjoying each other’s company. We knew sixth grade would rip recess out of our young hands, but we didn’t know about the other changes. The elementary schools were mixed together and split into two middle schools. Hormones went three steps higher and mingling became harder. Crushes had existed before, but now they were backed up with feelings. One of my classes was even split into a girls side and a boys side. It took a while to break that choice. That made me grateful for the time both genders spent together.

Wall balls physical form died at fifth grade graduation. However the memories still fill my heart with joy. It may have been just a game constricted to recess for some, but it feels like something greater to me.

-Katelyn Avery

447 words

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My other websites

Posted on March 29, 2014 by Katelyn The Journalist

I don’t usually do updates in my blog posts, but I just wanted to list my other websites. Sorry you have to copy and paste these links.

Katelyn The Journalist on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/KatelynTheJournalist

Katelyn The Journalist on Twitter. As Katelyn Avery: https://twitter.com/K_Avery219

Katelyn The Journalist on YouTube. As The Suburban Base: https://www.youtube.com/user/TheSuburbanBase/featured

 

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Technology Lost

Posted on March 28, 2014 by Katelyn The Journalist

Image   Stored away rotary phone. Photo by Katelyn Avery.

They’re going to do more than forget, they’re never going to learn. I’m talking about the young kids. About 12 and down, who have always lived with cell phones. They might not even remember when homes needed land lines. When it comes to rotary phones you might as well be speaking a different language. Even my generation, the ones born in ’93, were a little past them.

Technology advancement is something most of us don’t want to live without. New luxuries such as cell phones create convenience, but they also cause some of us pain. For the nostalgic folk new technology means the death of past machines. As I open a basement cabinet I can’t help but remember a simpler time. 

 

Image                                                   Wall rotary phone. Photo by Katelyn Avery.

My family had two phones when I was growing up. An old wall based rotary phone, and later a portable phone. My Dad had a hard time letting go of the old phone at first. He would usually answer the rotary phone and pull the wire across the room. As a small child I would play limbo to get from the kitchen to the dining. That may sound fun, but it eventually lost its appeal when I became taller than the stretched wire. By third grade I was happy that we finally had a portable phone. I could walk without obstacles. My parents could even carry the phone with them outside or into the basement while laundry was done. I could call friends from my room. My Dad could do business from his desk, instead of the kitchen table. Still, the rotary phone never left its drywall mount.

The knowledge of how these phones work is in the technology graveyard. At least for the youth. Despite being a fan of the rotary phone I never really learned how to use it. My Mom showed me once or twice, but I never got to practice. Kids under 10 didn’t call each other back then.

Cell phones are a necessity in my life, don’t get me wrong. It’s just hard to let go of the past. Even if my simpler times can be called modern by the ones older than me. My early childhood is full of technology we will never use again. Things that could be called lost in history. 95 percent of me wants to say goodbye to the old ways, but I think they will always hold a space in my heart.

-Katelyn Avery

404 words

 

 

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Steps Past Depression

Posted on March 26, 2014 by Katelyn The Journalist

Image   Basement stairs. Photo by Katelyn Avery.

Turn the corner and find the stairs. I’m almost there now. Into the uplifting place I go. I need to make it to the second floor, but I’m even lower than I thought. My journey begins in a negative state. The basement houses the starting line in the race to defeat depression.

Image   First floor stairs. Photo by Katelyn Avery.

My breath can’t be caught. Climbing the basement stairs took everything out of me. I think I left Doubt and Sadness in the dust, but they both have endurance. They’ll be on the first floor any second now. The basement door closes, but the gaps leave room for those two weasels to slip through. All I want to do is take a nap by this point, but I ascend up the stairs anyways.

Image   Taking Flight. Photo by Katelyn Avery.  

Each step causes my muscles pain. They want to give up and my will is right there with them. Defeat costs too much in this case though. Sweat beads roll down my forehead, but they don’t cool me off. Comfort is for the victors. That is the only thing that keeps me going.

Image   Success Through the Door. Photo by Katelyn Avery.

Rest is in sight. I have made it through each step. Only the final door stands in front of me. Depression is next to me now. They say awful things and I almost fall backwards. Sadness and Doubt pull on the back of my shirt. For a second I am pulled back, but then I shake them off. Not even a muscle straining race could make me weaker than those two fools. As for Depression, they need those two to live, so I felt pride as Depression tumbled down the stairs. I knew that was my doing.

One leg went through the doorway, and then the other. My hands grasped the sides of the doorway. All my muscles were on the brink of being stretched too far. Eventually I made it through the door. I could finally breathe and the bed didn’t call my name. I had enough energy to run 3 more races now. Happiness came into my life then. That put an end to anything holding me back. I was free.

-Katelyn Avery

351 words

 

 

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Make a Sound

Posted on March 23, 2014 by Katelyn The Journalist

Image   Whistle. Photo by Katelyn Avery.

You try to blow the whistle but only a faint sound comes out. “Something must be in there”, you think. Surely the problem has a scapegoat, that isn’t you. That thought may be your downfall.

Were always told it’s not our fault and by no means am I putting blame on anyone. I’m actually trying to encourage myself. Certain childhood memories were eating away at me. Moments of anger coming towards my way that still played in my head. I made half an effort to deal with this.

The laptop and TV are wonderful suppressants. Turn those things on and a person can lose any nightmare. This isn’t a cure though.

A real sound had to be made. My whistle was not broken or sabotaged. I was holding my own voice back. Finally I turned to my Mom for help. As long as their around, most mothers want to see you heal.

My secret story was released in high school. It was many years in the making. The epicness level was not perfect for all audiences though. My Dad received letters as part of this artistic breakthrough. That time in teenagerdom where some people self-medicate, and some people take real medicine. I made the better choice.

My parents and I had to deal with some past problems to better me. Nothing dire or lethal. Just memories that held me back. I was fortunate to have parents who wanted to take part in this. Even if they were forced to take a front row seat in the “Katelyn’s Mental State” show. If they hadn’t supported this event the whole process would have backfired. It would have been subject to some kind of poisonous substance that burned my insides. That’s the thing about opening up to people, even your parents, if it goes wrong you take the heat.

A few years later I had to do the same thing again. It had nothing to do with my childhood though. Current family problems concerning money, greed and dementia hit me hard. I felt like I was dying because of some extended family members. Within my damaged state I had something to perk me up though. An open relationship with my Mom in particular gave me a voice. I turned to my sister too. She felt the same pain, but sharing our thoughts healed the both of us. All my worries could be cast into the air and dissolved. My spirit rose up again, from under the rubble of family problems.

I’m a fortunate person. I had someone to talk to. I was able to bring up things that shaped me in a bad way. Problems that clung to me, or memories that didn’t want to leave the nest. For others they aren’t able to mention something bad that a person did to them. Stressful moments are meant to be ignored in their world. So many agree with that method, but it’s a harmful thing. When the victims in that scenario have a struggle they are then forced to go it alone. That’s a toxic life. A sound has to be made. Hotlines, school counselors and clinics exist for a reason. No matter how strong you are silence is an awful thing.

-Katelyn Avery

538 words

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Back to the Books

Posted on March 20, 2014 by Katelyn The Journalist

Image                 Reopened book (“Blizzard’s Wake”).  Photo by Katelyn Avery.

The pages hold an aroma only described by “old and stored away”. It’s not a bad smell by any means, actually it pulls me in. I want to learn more about this book. “Blizzard’s Wake” is the name, and it’s by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor. I knew this book once, and the story dances in the back of my mind. A faint memory that I can half retrieve. I would like to get acquainted with each word again.

Please don’t listen the negative hype, millennials’ do read. School makes sure of that. However, it’s pleasure reading that we lack. I broke that habit about a month ago with a copy of “Junior”, written by Macaulay Culkin (Actor from Home Alone). The pages flipped away, and I finished the story in one day. This was in part due to its fast paced nature and “fresh” writing style, but it was also because I hadn’t been hitched to a book in a long time.

I loved reading as a kid. It was almost better than TV or the computer for me. My current book of choice would be like a husband to me, always on my mind and in the best care. Although with that metaphor I’m either a polygamist or I’ve been divorced many times.

Image One of my bookshelves. Photo by Katelyn Avery.

High school academics slowly pushed pleasure reading out of my life, and college classes gave it the semi-final boot. Pleasure reading and I never made a definite split though. We just took breaks. I did read before “Junior” came into my life. “Sunrise Over Fallujah”, by Walter Dean Meyers, was the first and only non-school related book I purchased while in community college. A bookstore was finally in the mall again, and I had to support them.

While I have two new books of my own, and anything my sister buys, I can’t always spend money. Ah, the problems of the young. Luckily my bookshelves still house some older books. Some are even from my middle school years. I had a few mature choices, so it’s not awful to go back to them. Most of the pages haven’t seen light for 5 or 6 years.

“Blizzard’s Wake” will be the first book to take part of the reopened pages event. Only books I choose to read are aloud. This event has no end date for now, because I don’t want to stop reading. Even when I finish the old books, I will hopefully have saved enough to invite more into my life. The library may also call my name, but I don’t always like temporary relationships. It’s back to the purchased books for now, with a smile on my face.

-Katelyn Avery

443 words

*I am in no way affiliated with the books mentioned or photographed. I do not own the  books, and I do not represent the authors mentioned. No copyright infringement intended.

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Un-clip Me Hometown

Posted on March 17, 2014 by Katelyn The Journalist

Image                                                           Clipped. Photo by Katelyn Avery.

“It’s not you, it’s me.” I know, you’ve heard this line in the movies. That doesn’t make it a lie though. Don’t let the cliché fool you! I really do need to move on.

College acceptance has come. Katelyn Avery is now accepted into a four year school. That 50 dollar application fee left me high and dry, but it didn’t go to waste. I assume my soon to be paid deposit fees will also be worth it. However, that’s a debt story for another time.

This is a time of celebration, but I understand that some of you may be sad. Listen hometown, my wonderful suburban place, in southern Connecticut. You need to un-clip me. I’m pulling down the line so far it’s about to snap. It’s great that you love me, but the nest has to be emptied.

College calls again, and this time I can’t stay home. Community college wasn’t the original plan, but it worked, and I know you loved the no dorms thing. Letting go was never your strong suit.

We were not at each other’s throat….well sometimes we were….but not enough times to matter. It’s “Hasta luego” for now, but please don’t frown. I’m just collecting some tools for a good and stable future. I’ll be home on breaks my friend. No tears yet, because this is not the end.

-Katelyn Avery

226 words

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Falling. It’s Falling.

Posted on March 15, 2014 by Katelyn The Journalist

Image                         Fallen sky. Photo by Katelyn Avery.

The sky isn’t coming down, but changes are. Winter, my handsome guest, is leaving. Spring does eventually grow on me but green grass doesn’t beat sledding hills. This is my opinion not a fact from southern Connecticut.

My hands are slowly moving back, but the hug isn’t complete. Connecticut’s winter may last deep into March but April doesn’t take in stragglers. That eviction notice will come and the new resident Mr. Springtime will move in.

Mr. Winter will be missed but I will be a gracious neighbor. Many activities can be done in the spring. I won’t even think about snow after a while. Mr. Spring and I can form a friendship, but it won’t be closer than my winter bond.

-Katelyn Avery

121 words

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New Blog Address

Posted on March 15, 2014 by Katelyn The Journalist

I changed my blogs address. Now its https://katelynthejournalist.wordpress.com/  I’m still figuring this out. I think I fixed everything. You should be able to click the side archive articles, and go read them. Thanks for following.

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Small Steps Into Fitness

Posted on March 14, 2014 by Katelyn The Journalist

Image                          Steps. Photo by Katelyn Avery.

I started an exercise routine for myself, and no one else. I want that to be heard loud and clear. My body is the concern, not my body being on display.

Senior year put physical fitness to rest. I was done with gym class, but at the time I still was somewhat active. However, academics were sending a tidal wave into my life. Community College came crashing down, and I went to desperate measure to stay somewhat healthy. Avoiding the elevator at all costs, even when I had to go to the third floor, and being too poor to have anything but a dollar bag of animal cracker for lunch. That last one was an unintentional win I suppose.

While reporting for my schools newspaper I attended a heart fair. An exciting enough topic, full of music, freebee nic nacs and a large blowup heart. Blood pressure was being checked at one of the tables so I headed over. The stretchy band was placed around my arm and I was totally unconcerned. Healthcare issues had kept me out of the doctor’s office for two years at the time, but I still thought I was doing well. Then the door slammed in my face.

My blood pressure was too high. I wasn’t about to keel over or anything, but a 19 year old doesn’t tend to have the same health problems as their parents. The doctor told me exercise would help so I made a plan.

Image                         Sports equipment. Photo by Katelyn Avery.

Free time wasn’t exactly part of my second semester college life, but I tried my best. I started walking around the house more, and I bought a bunch of sports stuff. Some of my more used sports equipment consists of two male lacrosse sticks, a lacrosse ball, a football and a skateboard. The lacrosse sticks come in handy because I can cradle, shoot into a broken couch or play catch with other family members. I’ve been told lacrosse is a healing sport to the Iroquois. I’m not an expert, but it certainly did help with healing me.

When I was 20 I attended another health related fair, this time it was at my community college. My blood pressure had gone down, and I was at a normal rate. Relief draped over me, but I wasn’t free to let myself go.

My current exercise routine consists of running in place for 9 minutes, 25 curl-ups, 25 push-ups and a few other things. Those main three have to do with my muscles. I would visit my cousins and notice the strain I put on myself to even attempt running. I didn’t feel good.

I won’t lie to you, starting to exercise again wasn’t easy. I don’t have money for the gym so it was home bound exercise for me. Even if I had spare cash sometimes you need alone time when trying to get in shape. The first few days left me tired and with some pain, but I still felt good. I was breathing better and I wanted to feel the burn. I wanted to get better and stay healthy. I’m not doing this for a man, friends or fashion magazines. My exercise routine includes the proper mental health requirements. I’m doing this for myself, so the only person to please is me.

-Katelyn Avery

547 words

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