Two minutes ago, I was trying to calculate how big a turkey I needed for the Thanksgiving throng, and here we are tipping over into summer–one of my sons came home from college a couple of weeks ago, and another comes home tonight.
There’s just something about summer . . . I’ve mentioned many times before that I have no memory, but I have to admit that I can remember things that happen during the summer better than anything else. Summer takes you out of your real life routine. Days don’t blur into each other during the summer the way they do the rest of the year.
Here are some of my most vivid summer memories, some happy, some sad:
1. My dad deciding the best way to teach me how to sail a small boat would be to get it out into the lake and then hand over the rudder and sail to me and tell me to start sailing. That might have worked for someone like my own daughter, who’s confident and eager, but I was insecure and clumsy and absolutely terrified of capsizing the boat and/or hitting a swimmer. It was a total failure: I begged him to take control again as soon as possible, and when we got back home, vowed I would never go out with him in the sailboat again. I never did learn to sail.
2. Picking blueberries