summer memories

Summer Days

Hot summer days.
Sunny summer heat.
Riding bicycles to baskin robbins.

Riding bicycles around and around.
Not really going anyplace.
An escape from parents.

Sneaking cigarettes in the school yard.
Talking to boys in the field behind the school.
Laughing, movies, sesame street....

Robert Redford movies,
A trip to the farm.
Road trips....

Home,
riding the bicycle...
home.

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'skeeters --damn bugs!

Presently we are experiencing an unusual outbreak of large, voracious, menacing mosquitoes in northern Illinois.... and that reminded me.......

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During my seventh year we had a fish tank.  This was during the time we lived in the Cape Cod house.... the fish were in a small tank on a little side table in the dining room.  This fish tank was your basic glass fish bowl, no aerator, nothing fancy.... gold fish, little ones.

It should not surprise anyone to know that I still have this particular fish bowl....but I digress.....

Anyway, we came home from ...someplace,... and entered the house through the front door.  And we were very quickly assaulted by swarming mosquitoes.... Naturally my father was OUTRAGED, and yes, I do mean that he exclaimed loudly and uttered some profanity! If you really knew him you get my meaning fully.  *wink wink

"Where on earth are these mosquitoes getting into MY house!"  My parents hurried to check that the screened in porch, which we never used, was secured.  There was no sign of an open door or breached screen.  Multiple doors and windows on the main floor were inspected in short order.  And that was when they realized that the worst concentration of the bugs was in the dining room.

"The DINING room!" .... that was where the fish tank was!

My parents hurried over to the fish bowl and, sure enough, there were more mosquitoes hovering above it... the goldfish were probably delighted! 

My father went to the garage and returned with a piece of screen that had been meant to use to repair window screens.  Using a pliers he quickly fashioned a cover to put on top of the fish bowl.

And that, my friends, is the entire story....  and nevermore did we have a fish bowl or tank of any kind in our home without some kind of covering over the top.

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Stonefield

My mother loved the rich history of America.
We went to a lot of historic places in the central part of the United States.
Most of our time was spent in Illinois and Wisconsin, with occasional jaunts through the southeast part of Missouri and into Arkansas,... or to Tennessee via Kentucky.
We did not make any grand tour of it, nor did we visit a great number of historic places....
but when we did stop for more than an hour.... those are the times I remember.

My niece was with us,... I am not certain who else,... when we visited Stonefield in Wisconsin.
There is not anything in particular that I remember about Stonefield.  It is just the best, clearest memory I have of a location.  Perhaps that is because, many times, the visits were shorter.
My niece, she is just a few weeks younger than I... the two of us, young teens, did not really want to visit historic villages.... we just wanted to hang out someplace where we could escape the summer heat,..and smoke cigarettes.  To be out of view of the grown ups, and smoke and talk about things that teenage girls talk about.

In reality we were paying attention to some of the history and the stories.... enough so, that as adults we agreed that we were glad that my mother "made" us visit historic sites.

Any time we were on a road trip to anywhere we kept an eye out for billboards advertising roadside attractions... on the lookout for anything that was "different" or any cave tours.... because our car did not have an air conditoner.  

Many places,... Hannibal, MO .... Sioux Falls, SD, .... Heber Springs, AR,....
Rebel Cave in Missouri,... Dog Patch,.... Mammoth Cave in KY,.... The House on The Rock in Wisconsin..... Wisconsin Dells.....

Years and years later I feel a warm sense of nostalgia whenever I visit a historic place.

Thanks mom.
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It's a pretty drive up to:
Stonefield Historic Site, 12195 County Hwy VV, Cassville, Wisconsin
take Hwy 133 from Potosi....through farmland and down to the east side of the Mississippi River.....
lovely little town. Cassville.
If you have the time to take your time, and to book ahead,...try to get a room at the Eagle's Roost... it was clean, quiet, and comfortable for one night.
(I was in Cassville for work in the fall a few years ago.
Autumn is a beautiful time of year for visiting southern Wisconsin.)

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Suzanne the plans.....and sunny days that I thought would never end.....

Riding in the car with mother.

Going to my favorite aunt's house.

Out to the river in the grove.

Driving on the lane through the hickory and tall oaks.

Fall. Colors. Burning leaves the only scent.

Gravely roads, off the beaten path,

onto a narrower lane still.

All the way out the car radio on. 

Simpler tunes, mostly gentle, a few humorous.

I sing along with every single one.

AM radio, FM as yet undiscovered country for me.

I am a gentle backseat driver at age 11, 12, 13...

Quietly commenting on red lights, 

or what other drivers are up to on the road.

Chiming in with "that guy needs no knocks" when there is a noisy car.

Making mother laugh out loud.

We talk about a variety of topics,

on those long drives out to the countryside.

Mother tells me things about driving cars.

lessons I file away for when I am the one driving the car.

Somewhere out there I made her a promise.

That she would never have to be alone.

Because I owed it to her to take care of her....

never thinking that one day she would live at my house....

The shared experiences of my adolescence,

bridging a gap until we could be just friends,

mother and I.

That is what we became.... long after....

after favorite aunts were gone,

most of them, and we had to make

new adventures of our weekends.

and then she was gone.

sunny days fire and rain

simpler times, simpler happiness sunshine on my shoulders

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NO SAD FACES she lived a good life, she was ready to go to her God,
she was a true believer (John 3:16).   Do not cry for her or for me. 
The past is past, and she would not want your tears, nor do I. 

NO SAD FACES.

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