![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPeJgatkWR_PXUhyphenhyphenmIvJtqZBPMdcA-Hbsq9nnDtIw2V7f60ZALuqKONe4qgdKh2ROR58bmtFhtS3jN5_8yTWDVaDUjwFnEy4hx3AMSpdtzShNfF1YlmaShA0vE1q38f-zkDYd4u3ZxKX0/s400/Jennie+%26+David.jpg)
The door behind us leads to a screen-in porch (well it was back then), where three big wooden rockers sat. I remember all the kids sitting outside on the rockers at night and listening to the trains pass in the valley. We had a wonderful place to grow up, hills to play king of the hill and just enough flat to play a baseball. We had lots of kids in the neighborhood too...plenty of little boomers to join in games. Our yard seemed to be the focus of a lot of neighborhood activities. The hills were fun to roll down or slide down on cardboard boxes. If you had the nerve - the hills made for a pretty thrilling try on a bicycle. I remember my chain broke while attempting the hill on a bike and the tool closet door brought me to an abrupt stop. It was either the wooden door or a brick wall. The hills were fun and didn't deter my downhill bicycling efforts.