Karen and her family were the first new people that had moved to our street after we got there,ans she was really about the only other person around who was close to my age.So we ended up p[laying together a lot.I would have preferred to have had another boy to play with,because Karen sure wasn't too interested in trucks,or playing in the mud,and she eventually became better friends with my sister than with me,despite a years difference in their ages.As it turned out,given the way we met,Karen and I got along well.She wasn't mean,despite the rock fight.In fact,I think the rock throwing was really about boredom,and each of us trying to get the attention of the other in what seemed like the only possible way.We couldn't very well go across the street and shake hands and say hello,and the rocks did work.
If Karen was not mean,then the same could be said of her dog.I don't recall the dogs's name,but she was a big baby.She was a doberman,and she looked like she was all business,but really she was as gentle as a lamb.She was quite big though,her head rising above my own.Once or twice I even jumped on her back and rode her around like a pony.Not only did she not mind,but sh was more than strong enough to provide pony rides without complaint.Most of the time she would stay off leash in the yard without running off.So,as much as she looked as though she might eat small children for dinner,she really made me realize that dogs were good companions,not something to be feared.I began to become much more at ease around dogs after that,even the ones running loose.
Karen turned out to be a good playmate,and her family,and ours became friends,pretty much as soon as the rocks stopped flying.Soon I was allowed to cross the street to her place,and she was over at our house a lot too.Both sets of parents were always hanging out together as well,at either one of our houses,or out in the backyards.Karen had an older brother too,old enough that he didn't bother much with either my sister or I.In fact,he likely only paid attention to his sister because she was a sibling.By the time I was in grade one,he was in grade four or maybe even five.As much as I don't even recall his name,it occurred to me,a year or two after they'd moved away that he must have been quite the hellion.Of course he hung out with kids his own age but,by the time I was in junior high school,a couple of those kids had fallen far enough behind that they had become classmates of mine.They were kids who liked to fight too,and who were always getting into trouble.Karen's brother seemed alright to me,he was never really nasty and didn't swear a lot.He was always calling other kids"Fruit",though.It seemed like "Fruit"was his favorite word.I knew he wasn't talking about apples or oranges when he said it,so one day I asked him what a fruit was.And at first he replied "you know...things like apples...or oranges."Then he said "Fruits" were girls.This seemed a little odd since the only one I'd ever heard him refer to as a fruit were other boys.He seemed to think it was funny though,so there must have been some secret that he wasn't letting me in on.I tried the word out at home,and it didn't go over so well.I didn't get into a pile of trouble over it,but I was told never to call anyone that again.
So we'd met our first real friends in the neighborhood,which was really still quite new to us.My father knew a lot of people all over town,mostly military people,but he really didn't associate with many of the neighbors until Karen and her family moved in.My mother was either at work,or home looking after us,so she really didn't socialize much either.She was more than friendly with anyone she happened to meet,but I don't recall us having a lot of company from anywhere around town.Eventually she made some friends in church and some of them started coming around.But really,Karen and her family were our first close friends in Moncton.They lived across from us for about a year,then moved up to a new house on Ayre Avenue,then eventually moved away.
If Karen was not mean,then the same could be said of her dog.I don't recall the dogs's name,but she was a big baby.She was a doberman,and she looked like she was all business,but really she was as gentle as a lamb.She was quite big though,her head rising above my own.Once or twice I even jumped on her back and rode her around like a pony.Not only did she not mind,but sh was more than strong enough to provide pony rides without complaint.Most of the time she would stay off leash in the yard without running off.So,as much as she looked as though she might eat small children for dinner,she really made me realize that dogs were good companions,not something to be feared.I began to become much more at ease around dogs after that,even the ones running loose.
Karen turned out to be a good playmate,and her family,and ours became friends,pretty much as soon as the rocks stopped flying.Soon I was allowed to cross the street to her place,and she was over at our house a lot too.Both sets of parents were always hanging out together as well,at either one of our houses,or out in the backyards.Karen had an older brother too,old enough that he didn't bother much with either my sister or I.In fact,he likely only paid attention to his sister because she was a sibling.By the time I was in grade one,he was in grade four or maybe even five.As much as I don't even recall his name,it occurred to me,a year or two after they'd moved away that he must have been quite the hellion.Of course he hung out with kids his own age but,by the time I was in junior high school,a couple of those kids had fallen far enough behind that they had become classmates of mine.They were kids who liked to fight too,and who were always getting into trouble.Karen's brother seemed alright to me,he was never really nasty and didn't swear a lot.He was always calling other kids"Fruit",though.It seemed like "Fruit"was his favorite word.I knew he wasn't talking about apples or oranges when he said it,so one day I asked him what a fruit was.And at first he replied "you know...things like apples...or oranges."Then he said "Fruits" were girls.This seemed a little odd since the only one I'd ever heard him refer to as a fruit were other boys.He seemed to think it was funny though,so there must have been some secret that he wasn't letting me in on.I tried the word out at home,and it didn't go over so well.I didn't get into a pile of trouble over it,but I was told never to call anyone that again.
So we'd met our first real friends in the neighborhood,which was really still quite new to us.My father knew a lot of people all over town,mostly military people,but he really didn't associate with many of the neighbors until Karen and her family moved in.My mother was either at work,or home looking after us,so she really didn't socialize much either.She was more than friendly with anyone she happened to meet,but I don't recall us having a lot of company from anywhere around town.Eventually she made some friends in church and some of them started coming around.But really,Karen and her family were our first close friends in Moncton.They lived across from us for about a year,then moved up to a new house on Ayre Avenue,then eventually moved away.
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