June 26, 2014

A Quiet House

The kids are still sleeping. I think summer vacation finally took. The house is so quiet. I was trying to read a book but it's not really keeping my attention. I made my tea and shuffled around the kitchen but then decided to sit still and keep them sleeping.

I remember when they were little and our summers were made of the backyard and my feet in a kiddie pool. Blowing bubbles for them to catch, closing my eyes in the sun every chance I could get. It's too cold here for a kiddie pool and we have a schedule to keep. Storytime at the library and dance camp and play practice and baseball. Soon swimming lessons and then hopefully, before school has to start again, we'll have the kind of days we won't ever leave the house.

Aside from a few Christmas moments that stand out, all of my childhood memories take place in summer. -The time I left my crayons on the table on our back patio and they melted and surprised my fingers when I touched them. - The summer that we visited my cousins in Indianapolis and my Aunt Diane made strawberry jam. It was the most amazing thing I'd ever tasted on a cracker. There was a drought and the grass was sharp and they weren't allowed to water their lawn and everyone was worried about the fireworks, but we still lit them. I held a sparkler for the first time. We listened endlessly to Parents Just Don't Understand.

When my mom tutored a little girl at the library and and my brother and I had free reign among the stacks. We would eat Cheez-its and I read my first Nancy Drew, The Secret of the Wooden Lady.  - Riding my ten speed bike. Everywhere. - Writing my first story on an old typewriter about a boy and a girl and a gazebo. - Summer enrichment class where we studied countries. I picked Sweden and brought in my Mommal's rice pudding on international food day. - The sprinkler in my grandparent's backyard that spun and shot out water so hard it felt like it was chopping off our ankles. - The entire summer I went to spend with my cousins in Louisiana. There was a lightning storm while we were watching a movie and the power went out and License To Drive got stuck in the VCR. We slept in the den where the Atari was and Bette Davis Eyes played on the radio. One day I'd call into the radio station and win a Heart cassette. My cousin Dayna and I made a spaghetti dinner for everyone and sauce splattered on the walls.

Where did my memories go for the other seasons? Maybe they'll come to me again when it's not so summer.

The house is waking up.