What Summertime Means To Me

Growing up in the south affords you the opportunity to experience a long summer. It typically starts in April and will last well into September, and oftentimes, parts of October. 

Yes, Spring and Fall do make it here, but they are so short lived. 

When I think of growing up, outside of little memories about Christmas or birthdays, I mostly remember summertime.

I'll be the first to admit, I am not a big fan of the hot weather. I don't mean 80 degrees and sunny hot, I'm talking 100 degrees with 90% humidity hot - sauna hot. That's what most of our days feel like down here, starting in July. However, the memories, especially as a child, sort of drown out the hades-like temperature, and flood my mind with happiness.

For one, I remember swimming pools. I spent a majority of my more formative years living in an apartment complex. Luckily, the neighborhood we lived in had a community pool, lake, volleyball court, and 1/2 a dozen playgrounds. It was a huge co-op community - more set up like condos and townhouses, versus your standard apartment complex. 

Each morning I would get up fairly early, choke down some breakfast, grab my towel and head to the pool. I only came home for lunch, and then would pop right back down and swim all day long. I remember sliding down the water slide, playing "Sharks & Minnows," perfecting my serve at volleyball, and sitting by the pool listening to Madonna, Elton John, Prince, and Michael Jackson. We would all beg for 50 cents from our dads for the soda machine. I would consume my Dr. Pepper like it was the second coming. We would spend hours upon hours trying to soak up the sun, and gossip about the cute boys. At night, we would all gather down at the picnic tables and engage in a little hide & go seek through the woods of the complex. Later, we would slip on over to the dock, and hang out until we individually would hear our parents yell our names. That was my the bulk of my summer.

But there were other things I remember: 

Camp Martha Johnston
I spent a good bit of time from 1979 - 1985, at Girl Scout Camp each summer. Here I learned how to swim, play tennis, hook a warm and fish with a cane pole, identify most plants, canoe, skate, hike, and a ton of other typical summer activities. I remember mail call- a time when we would gather at the McGee lodge and get "Miss you" cards from our parents, and purchase items from the country store. I remember the cool, sweet taste of Cherry Berries, Astro pops, and Mickey Mouse ice creams. I remember limitless mosquito bites and the smell of Deep Woods Off or Avon's Skin-So-Soft. I remember challenging each other to cross the "monkey bridge," it was a rope bridge that took you from bank to bank over Sweet Water Creek. My claim to fame was that I was the only kid who was able to cross blind-folded and walking backwards. Yeah - I used to be quite the dare devil. 

Community Children's Theatre
Though most of my friends were stuck to only hanging out at the pool, I was shipped from camp to camp. Each summer, my sister and I would partake in CCT's summer theater camps. I was spend my morning in dance classes, and improvisation classes, and preparing for our summer theater production. Hours and hours were spent rehearsing with some of middle Georgia's best theater instructors. I perfected my form, improved my voice, and could remember entire dialogues very quickly. I made some wonderful friends, people I still know today, and gained incredible experience that has helped me conduct myself appropriately in the workplace, as well as completely washed away any fear I would have of public speaking. 

July 4th in Indiana
My dad was from a little town called Monroe City. We would return to southern Indiana every summer for a little family reunion. I remember corn fields and tons of little blond haired cousins. (The Thurston clan - mostly blond hair and blue eyes.) Playing badminton and softball games. Being asked numerous times to, "Say something in southern." Hilarious.

Granny's House
I also spent an extraordinary amount of time at my Great Grandmother's home on my mom's side. Granny was born in 1901, and was still very traditional in her old age. I was extremely close to her because my mom grew up in her house. My grandparents lived with Granny their entire married life - so needless to say, I was probably closer to them than most of my cousins. 

As soon as we would enter the doors of my Granny's house, my Papa would point us in the direction of the treats he had waiting for us. (Which would drive my mom crazy.) He would have a bag of Golden Flake Sour Cream & Onion chips and some fudge ripple ice cream in the freezer. I would run to his room and play with my paper dolls, or sit and listen to his Johnny Cash records. I would head out side and play with the dogs, or wander through his amazing garden. I would invite my cousins that lived across the street to come over and play. We would have a wonderful time. I always got the biggest kick from going through their old things. My Grandma Betty had a huge assortment of jewelry and purses. I would have her show me her things, every time I came over. I think she enjoyed telling the stories as much as I loved listening to them.
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Summers in the south really are grand. From quick trips to the beach or lake, to campfires at night. From sweet iced tea on the front porch, to catching lightning bugs at night - everything is special down here. 

What are some of your fondest memories surrounding summer?

Memories Evoked

As I was watching the movie, "Crimes of the Heart," I suddenly began to reminisce about my life back in Macon. Specifically, spending time at my grand parent's home.

Not that there was ever anything as scandalous as affairs, attempted murder, or a splash of insanity like in the movie (well.. none that was told to me!)- but there was something very "deja vu"  about the conversations, the decor and the accents.

I still remember how my Granny's house smelled. I am not talking about the newer house (if my family reads this,) I am talking about the original one, the one that my mother grew up in. I still remember every nook and cranny, every color, even specific conversations.

Her house was very old, and I assume looked very run down over the years. She and her husband (who I never met) built the house. It is where they raised their family, and my mom's family and so on. Gosh, just taking a moment to remember even the front porch blows my mind. Little flashes of memories come back to me. I remember the heat, the sweet tea, and the plants all around the front. I remember a blue car and an orange truck with a white top. I remember the roots of the trees in the front yard. For some reason, I believe I may have actually played with my little dolls around those roots.

I remember the side of the yard there was a (dog pen).. maybe.. and I remember the "big wheel" toys parked to the side. The living room had linoleum floors, and one big couch. There was an old tv in the corner of the room and a few other chairs facing the couch. I think there may have been an aquarium sitting on an old piano.

I think my Granny's room was to the left, it had two beds in it, and a very large vanity and chifferobe. The telephone was housed in there on a little side metal table (which is actually in my bedroom now.) She used to keep shells under her bed in these big white tubs. For whatever reason, I used to pull those shells out and play with them. I used to pretend I was selling them.. I probably got the idea from the tongue twister, "Sally Sells Seashells by the Seashore." Whenever I spent the night, this is the room I would sleep in. Never in the second bed, always with my Granny.

Through the door of the living room, you would find a large kitchen with a big kitchen table in the middle. Straight ahead was the frig with counters going around - window and sink on the other wall.. etc. Off the kitchen was my Papa & Grandma Betty's room. I remember it being dark in there - with all of their wood furniture. I actually have the chifferobe of theirs now.  For some reason, I remember how the sun used to cast these rays through their bedroom window. Being that it was an old house, I used to be fascinated by the specks of dust floating on those rays of sun.

Past the kitchen was a dark and decrepit hallway. To the left, the "red room" which used to belong to my Granny Terry, and across from it a narrow but long bathroom. Then there was a little porch off the hallway (more of a stoop) that lead to a huge garden. My grandfather grew all of his own food (veggies, etc.) He used to trade with the corner "Pik N Pay." He would take bags of veggies to the shop owner to sell, and in turn - my grandfather had "credit" to purchase anything else he needed.

I miss visiting my relatives. Nothing has ever been the same since they passed away. All of my childhood memories and idea of family comes from the time I spent there. The Sunday afternoon lunch, to the Christmas family gatherings, to playing outside with my cousins (all 2nd and 3rd cousins - mom was an only child.) I remember trying on my Granny's old dresses from the 20s, 30s and 40s, and I also remember always pulling my Grandma Betty's jewelry, make up and purses out to play with. They even taught me how to make paper dolls-  by cutting up sales papers and catalogues and creating my dream house. And always, without fail, Papa would always have 1 quart of fudge ripple ice cream and 1 bag of Golden Flake potato chips waiting on me. Not to mention, that black ceramic cookie jar full of those fudge stripe cookies. LOL

Typical meals consisted of a pot roast with potatoes. I am sure there were other southern specialities like: Granny's pound cake, pig brains (yes.. Granny ate them,) pig's feet, collard greens, mustard greens, snap peas..e tc. I would spend the evenings helping my Granny shell peas.

These strange flashes of the past are the memories I keep with me.

I think for years, I tried so hard to ignore the fact I was raised in the south. I hated it. I don't know if it came from spending some summers up north with my "other" cousins, that made me realize what people thought of us "down there." I always tried to put that side of my life away.

But the truth is.. when I entered my Granny's house, through the old, rusty screen door, the sweet tea, the bare feet, and yes - they watched Hee Haw on the weekends, and sometimes, my Papa (who drove an 18-wheeler truck) would play his Johnny Cash records... while my Granny fried Chicken and Catfish, and my Grandma Betty sat in her rocking chair watching the "stories".... yep...

Watching movies from the 80s that showed southerners in these old southern homes, eating various thing.. talking about stuff... it just brings back too many memories I had locked away somewhere.

Has that ever happened to you?