Memories of summers past
During steamy, hot summer days in South Carolina, my daddy made the best mayonnaise sandwiches in the whole world. I can remember those sandwiches like yesterday. It’s odd to think I can remember as far back as when I was 4 years old.
Mom would barely put any mayo on the sandwich, but Daddy would glob it on so that it would squish out around the sides of the bread. The first thing I’d do was lick off the excess mayonnaise and then bite into the gushy, soft, fresh white Sunbeam bread.
When we lived in Montgomery, Alabama, I remember my sister teaching me how to spell “hibernation,” “electricity,” and “multiplication” one summer. She also taught me what they meant and began to teach me how to read. This was my earliest memories of loving books. I came to realize that books could take me on many adventures. I was 5.
After Alabama, we lived in Morocco. When we moved there, I finished out my first grade of school. It’s was the fourth school I attended while in the first grade. I spent the summer playing with kids from everywhere. I remember picking huge oranges off of a tree branch that hung over a tall brick wall that surrounded a home. When I think about it, the whole place where the fruit trees grew reminded me of the book, “The Secret Garden,” although we kids never ventured inside the fence.
We lived on the outskirts of the Sahara Desert and it was hot in the summer, but as a kid, I didn’t notice it much. Daddy would take us for drives up into the Atlas Mountains, but we never went far. The Berbers lived there and they were not always friendly. Sometimes the men would come into the village. They were fierce looking and dressed differently than most other people, and they sported big saber swords hanging from their waistbands
I spoke almost as much French as I did English back then. Most of the kids in the village did. It was a great summer of adventure and I cherish the memories of that fantastic country. When I think back on my childhood, Morocco is almost always foremost in my mind. I’d like to go back and see some of the ancient ruins, go up into the Atlas Mountains again and visit a market. I wonder if that bricked walled home is still there and if the branches of an orange tree still welcome children to pick a few of its fruit?
After we moved to Louisiana my summers were spent at the base swimming pool. Water has always beckoned me. This is where I learned to not fear going off the high dive. It was thrilling and I couldn’t get enough of it. I had learned to swim at 5 and my goal was to jump off a high dive. This is how I’ve always been. I set goals and strive to reach them.
The kids in our neighborhood built a clubhouse. Mom made curtains for it and we’d bring our lunches of baloney sandwiches, peanut butter and jelly, or just plain ol’ mayonnaise like I did. We ate Lays potato chips and drank Kool-aid. Our desserts were homemade cookies and sometimes Hostess cupcakes with the surprise in the center. The best dessert was when our moms would freeze the Kool-aid in ice cube trays with toothpicks for handles. I can taste it now. We’d slurp them and have grape Kool-aid dripping off our chins.
We moved to Kansas after Louisiana. The summers were windy and hot. I remember leaning against the wind and not falling down. My days were spent at the Officers Club swimming pool with my best friend, Marga. One day the lifeguards made us all get out of the pool and go home. We were under a tornado watch. When we left the sky was crystal clear blue, bright sun, no clouds. Within an hour, black clouds started boiling up. I’d never seen anything like it. Brilliant green peeked out from behind the black clouds. It was eerie and ominous. The storm left as quickly as it came. No tornado that day.
Later on that same day, Marga and I strapped on our key skates and skidded along the sidewalks for probably two hours. I loved my key skates and can still remember the sound of the metal wheels as I sped along. Then after dark, we got on our bicycles (we had battery operated headlights) and rode all over the place. We were carefree and safe.
I must wrap this up. Eight-hundred words come quickly, and I’m a wee bit past it now, so I will continue this next week. I have many more summer adventures to share.