The Cubby Hole [Memoir Monday Prompt]

My childhood homestead was filled with wonderment. We lived on a dead-end street that ended at field that had a path that led to dirt roads and other such adventures. Next to my house was an expansive, swaying field where an old magical barn lived. I spent much of my youth in that barn and there much of the foundation of who I have become was set. I celebrate the Barn and the Field, as well as the secret Pond that lay beyond the dirt road in my poetry collection Poems from the River.

And while there was so much nature with hidden folds and crooks for me to escape to and which I did, there was also one such place right inside my home, which I used as a back up of sort for when I couldn’t get outside to escape from whatever it was that was chasing me or to whatever it was I had wished to become me that day. This not-so-secret secret place was hidden underneath the stairs. There was my inside place to escape, to daydream, to scare myself a little, to bring myself to quiet, and it was what we called a cubby hole. It had a small door that matched the paneling of the wall and inside, where all our games and decorations and other things meant to be hidden were stored, the ceiling was low, even for a child, and it was lit by one bare light bulb with a pull chain.

Like the barn, it, too, was a place of magic…

So tell us, in the form or device of your choosing…

Where, as a child, did you go to escape, to become? Where was your Cubby Hole of magic and wonderment?

Submissions close at 7PMish, selection announced at 8PMish.
This explains things a bit.



14 Replies to “The Cubby Hole [Memoir Monday Prompt]”

  1. I honestly never had a place to escape, God knows I needed one. But maybe I did…I twas numerous places like under the dining room table, in my closet and mostly in my mind. I would escape inside myself, in my imagination.

    But i never escaped much or saw it as escape because I felt imprisoned in my home, I never thought I could escape. I saw myself stuck.

    Liked by 3 people

  2. I had a magical place over a fence off a field which backed onto my family home back garden. I dubbed the stretch of land Butterfly Land, then there was Grasshopper Land further on and then Ant Land. And it really was divided like that it seemed for me. I loved it there. Sometimes I would share it with a friend and take them there. There were plenty of trees to hide in or climb high and sit on a branch and watch nature. Lost in my own world. I could literally see my own worldly creations if I ran with them. Places would transform. And then there was my wardrobe lol! I used to hide in there and just be still. The most influential place was my bedroom windowsill. I could see out to the horizon. A rare spot in the town I grew up in. Higher than what lay in front. A nice green field and plenty of trees and fields for miles. Every insight, vision, dream, it all happened on that windowsill. Night time contemplating, prayers, bathed in countless warming sunrises. Beautiful moments!

    Liked by 2 people

  3. There was this apple tree in our back yard. You wouldn’t know it to look at it but it had multiple personalities. At times it was a fortress against invading armies, others it was a pirate ship of epic proportions (the scourge of all who fell in her shadow). And still others, it was an interstellar vessel capable of transporting its occupants to worlds across the universe. It was a cradle, a hammock. and a very good listener. :-). It was provider of delicious snackage as well. lol.

    Liked by 6 people

  4. My childhood haunt!

    I grew up in an amazing community with numerous friends, we all had adventures of great magnitude…

    I don’t particular remember having one certain hideout where I took my imagination, it was to be perfectly honest with me at all times…

    Marble magic….
    We played fantastic games in drains and on dried out grass, digging out holes to roll our wondrous glass marvels of iridescent glass, catching the light from the warm days sun. The biggest marbles being the prized possessions of those most fortunate.
    I gazed in ore at their beauty.
    To this very day I have a significant treasured collection……

    Dens and hideouts
    Grass building of dens and clothes horses and bed sheets were another captured imaginative activity. The long hot summer of 75 was one we had many a late night playing cricket on the green with teams in great competition to win or out with our tennis bats knocking the hell out of the sticky vile July bugs up in the many trees surrounding our streets……

    Those naive days of care free dreams, the smells, the tastes all leaving many marks on whom we have become.

    Emotional teens
    I do remember taking to my bedroom which was shared with my older sister and listening on my brothers cherished record player, to his Simon and Garfunkel LP.
    “Like a bridge over troubled waters….” “Are you going to Scarborough fair” just to name a few….

    What wonderful days they were……
    Friendships, memories, the time of our life’s without any responsible or restrictions back then………

    Simon & Garfunkel Scarborough Fair:

    Posted from WordPress for Android

    Liked by 4 people

  5. The neighborhood was filled with lower-middle class families. Because of that, I had quite a few friends in my age-range. The backyards were hidden by fence away from adult eyes, so we’d usually get into our trouble there.
    I was 7 years old when I saw my first nudie magazine. It was stolen from my friend Joey’s older brother. We looked at the pictures and laughed until I noticed something strange happening downstairs, and I went home, embarrassed.
    I’m glad I did, because later that day, a small fire was started in Joey’s backyard. I was questioned about it, but Joey and his little brother eventually admitted they were playing with matches after I left.
    That day started the day that I would quit escaping to the backyards of my friends, and would begin escaping to my bedroom, where only me and the magazines knew what I was up to.

    Liked by 2 people

  6. We moved around every couple of years, due to the fact that my dad was a preacher and would be transferred to different areas. In the early to mid 70’s, we had a house on top of a hill, in the heart of Amish country, in Ohio.
    From that hill, we would setup the telescope, and instantly become astronauts. While exploring through the woods that were on the property, my friends and I would become explorers, searching for arrowheads, animal skeletons, sassafras roots to make tea, or the occasional squirrel that would run fearfully from our sling shots.
    Many times we would wander across the dirt road to the old farm that was on the edge of an apple orchard. It was there that we would find antiques and dream of the riches that we had found. Only the occasional creaking floor board underfoot, or the black snake that we might see, would unnervingly remove us from our treasure trove of discovered riches.
    By far the best location that we played in was “The Battlefield”. A giant steam shovel had come through and strip mined near our house. My buddies and I would take refuge in the gullies or ravines if you will, that had formed from the erosion after the rains. Some of these gullies were five feet deep, so we could easily slip by one another, unknowing of each other’s whereabouts. We would lob vollies of dry dirt clods into the air, with the hopes of uncovering someone’s position.
    The worst that would happen, would be the incredibly long scrubbing in the bathtub later that evening.
    It was our world, it was a great world, and it made for incredible memories.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. My parents living room & the cozy couch that’s my place or maybe that room itself! Yes! That was my study place. I was fortunate enough to share a study room with my siblings but parents were kind enough to allow us to study wherever we want to. So I loved spending my study/daydreaming/ dance like nobody is watching time there.
    The important thing was locking the door, because I didn’t know when that interview session of my dream would begin. Which would actually happen in real someday. That’s what I believed back then. A place to be myself ! What I want to be? A place where nobody is going to judge me. I can see my biggest dream coming true. I just knew one thing, this dream was easily achievable! To do what I want to do! Become famous ! Yes, I can! Naive was I!

    I don’t know how many times, but yes, I use to dream of being a famous person. Who? Then I didn’t know? I have interviewed myself countless times….asking questions about what’s the secret of my success? What inspired me to come to where I’m today? I thought of inspiring people with my life & setting some example with doing what? I didn’t know?
    I was clueless, what I would do? But deep down this dream was there with me all the time.
    Back then my dream was light & airy. It was a sweet dream. As I grew up… I learned life is much more than my sweet dreams. It’s the dreams of my loved ones that makes me most happy. Not that I would stop being in my wonderland, but yes I can sure procrastinate on that front or rather that’s not a priority. Anyways, I had never shared my dreams with anybody. I never knew there was a writer in me until 7 yrs back? I often tend to think, “do I know myself?”. There is still so much of me to explore?
    I know I’m here to share those childhood secret hideouts, my daydreams, my living rooms cozy couch, & all that escape time when I just wanted to be with myself! There is so much I learn & I’m learning about myself everyday which is making me a better person. The child in me is still there. I still daydream! I still need hideouts. I still need to time to be with my thoughts. Time for that self talk. Only the place has changed, the couch has changed, the room has changed. I have changed a lot but only one thing has not. I’m still unsure what I want to do? I still want to make a difference. As I sit on my cozy couch & write this going in my dreamland I can’t help but share something that I wrote related with me which says more.

    I want to fly, touch the sky.

    Don’t give me wings, I have my own.

    Don’t tie my wings, I’ll be torn.

    I want to be free, to feel the breeze.

    Don’t show me the road, I like to explore.

    I may be small, but I still stand tall.

    I may not be a perfect being, but please remember I’m a human being.

    Let me taste the flight, let me take the risk, let me use my wings for the purpose they exist.

    The purpose of freedom, to be free to fly, free to express, to be my own guide.

    To be able to rise, when ever I fall.

    To be able to enjoy, the power of my wings.

    I may be wrong, but that’s how I think.

    Just let me be ME then you’ll see.

    Who I am?


    What I can be…

    Liked by 1 person


Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s