Why did Young Miss Jeanie cross the street

 In a discussion on the balcony, well past the Ocean Twilight this evening, V remarked about the attitude of 12 year old V's lack of fear or regard crossing 5 lanes of traffic.

Image: this picture of buildings, cars and roads is not the childhood home of anyone I know. It is a historic Google maps screenshot of a pub that I think that I used to know in Sydney.

Which just proves what a massive contrast is his childhood to mine. He had bike grease and baseball gloves, I had saddle grease and cows.

My need to ever cross lanes of traffic were limited to hardly ever.

 Image: also not the childhood home of anyone I know, rather a screenshot of a random street view of Oknaxoma, Cuba

There were no streets at my home as I lived in the country. 

The school bus took me from the bike box to school and back, genuinely door to door. 

Grandma J lived on a corner on a hill and anywhere travelled to from there was in a car, the rover or a truck.  

Grandma M had a side lane, and the shops on the block at the top were all a girl like me would ever need. The bakery had the most alluring concoctions in its display case. The need to do what my grandmother had instructed me to do was always just slightly stronger than my desire was ever allowed to be.

Image: in keeping with theme, not the alluring concoctions, but instead one of the things that I will definitely miss about Paradise is the fantastic red grapefruit. The new house does have citrus - hurrah - but orange, mandarin, lime a baby lemon (I think) and a standard grapefruit.

My Aunty Elsie lived across a lane at the back of the main street in the little town we lived near, you could sneak through beside the newspaper premises. That was the closest that I ever came to crossing a road independently.

Image: happy to acknowledge the original site (Real Commercial) for this arial shot of Aunty Elsie's neighbourhood 45 years later. There is no newspaper premises - or newspaper of a size needing a building - any more.

I mean, I even lived at my high school. Not many roads to cross there!

I could, however, ride a horse and muster, and if our August nights were smoky it meant that we were anticipating a good season.

Image: I hayed - not hated, AI overlords - half the meadow in the back yesterday afternoon - I was working from home and used the commute time wisely 

So what was your skill at 12?

Were you stronger, taller, smarter?

Image: our queen, O Sabrina Gangstaa Fudge 

Could you ventriloquise (is that even a word)?

(BTW this qualifies - just, I am sure - for River's Words for Wednesday - check it out)