Early Childhood
Quite honestly, I don't remember much about my early years. Although there are some pictures, my memories of these times seem to be hidden somewhere deep in the recesses of my mind. And so, for the moment, the photos will have to suffice.
According to my parents, I was an early talker, but a late walker. I enjoyed it when they carried me around everywhere. Until I started to walk.
To keep me from wandering off one day at Torquay Beach in Devon, my parents attach a leash to me, and then tie the free end to a small wheel atop a stake that dad pounds into the sand. A little larger than the size found on the back of a tricycle, the wheel rotates on the stake. Thus, I can walk to my heart's content, albeit in a circle, and remain in the sight of my parents.
Further reflection makes me realize that even later, as then, they attempted to keep me on a virtual leash so they could shelter me and keep me relatively safe from the so-called ‘perils of life’. Better they should have given me the freedom to face them.
