- Summer days at the pool. The city pool was less than 1/2 block from my grandparents’ house, so we frequently went there after swimming. The door was on the west side of their house, and the afternoon sun was so brutal that you’d nearly burn your hand when you touched the knob. I can still smell a hint of cracking varnish and decaying wood when I think about it. We’d walk from the outdoor oven into the cool, dark kitchen. They had window unit air conditioners (we didn’t have any AC), and the contrasting temperatures outside and in were amazing to me. Grandma would give us popsicles—usually banana or root beer—and send us back out into the stifling heat to eat them. (I guess that wasn’t so much about the pool, huh?)
- Endless summer. I miss the feeling of standing at the end of May, peering out to the horizon and seeing nothing but the string of long, warm days ahead. As much as I didn’t appreciate it at the time (“Mom, what can we do?”) it would be wonderful to have that sheer quantity of time with no responsibilities or obligations.
- I miss having friends who live just up the street or across town. It was so easy to get together to do something, or just to do nothing. No worries about where to meet, deadlines at work, or finding someone to watch the kids.
- Several times every winter, my grandpa would load my three cousins, my sister, and me into the car and take us ice skating. Before the season started, he’d evaluate the skate inventory and we’d hand down the skates that no longer fit to the next one in line. And if anyone was left without a pair, he’d take us to the sporting goods store to buy us some. We’d skate for hours, playing crack the whip or Dorothy Hammill while he waited in the warming house, helping other kids get laced up. When we needed a break, we’d head in for a few minutes. I can still hear the metal door slamming behind us as we clomped into the warm plywood room that smelled of wet mittens. And there was orange soda. Wow—I haven’t thought about that in years. Kelly, am I dreaming that part, or did we have orange soda from paper cups?
- And sometimes I miss going back to school. New clothes, new pencils, and new notebooks. The feeling of having a fresh start, and getting back into a routine. Walking home on warm autumn afternoons, under the bright colors of the maple trees in front of Hardymans’ house.
Okay, your turn! More flashbacks to the 70’s . . . part of the game involves a crazy chain letter-like scheme. Here are the rules:
Remove the blog at #1 from the following list and bump every one up one place; add your blog’s name in the #5 spot; link to each of the other blogs for the desired cross-pollination effect.
Next: select new friends to add to the pollen count. (No one is obligated to participate). I select:
Stop by and leave a comment if/when you post your memories.