Up until the 5th grade, the better part of my summers was spent indoors on punishment (for one reason or another). My father used to exact punishments for months (rather than weeks) at a time. I would have a week or two of time that I could spend in the stairwells talking to friends, on the playground playing on the monkey bars, or playing in one of three concrete stand-alone tunnels.
After we moved to Long Island, my father spent more time at work. When he was not at home, I spent most of my time at different houses in the neighborhood playing with kids my age. There was usually some form of construction going on in the neighborhood. I spent a lot of time playing in the houses being built, or on the dirt mountains that were created when the land was being prepared for construction. I walked about a mile to get to the candy store, bakery, and pizza restaurant with my siblings and friends; the restaurant sold pizza by the slice; we spent some of our time talking and enjoying pizza there before heading back to our neighborhood.
When my father was home, I spent most of my time working for him. My father wanted free rocks to fill his rock garden, so my siblings and I spent time sifting rocks out of dirt (from the dirt mountains we usually played on). Once his rock garden was complete, we spent our evenings at the sod farm down the street from our house. We collected the scraps of sod left behind in the field. We helped my father till the lawn, rake and sift out the clumps of weeds, and arrange the sod pieces (we had collected from the sod farm) on our lawn. The rest of my time was spent helping my father with various projects around the house. I still received punishments for breaking his rules, but I went out to play anytime both of my parents were out of the house. I stayed in the area, so that I could dash back inside if I spotted the family car coming down the street.