As I approach the completion of another summer break, I do so with some trepidation. Perhaps not trepidation, but certainly some disequilibrium akin to trepidation. Maybe this is because I've grown accustomed to the nicety of staying up late, sleeping in late, and lately, spending good time with my best friends Erin, India, and Maya.
I've also had some time this summer to spend some time with me. Is that strange? I don't know. I do know that it is necessary to get to know oneself once in a while. That getting to know, for want of a better word, could come in some of the most expected of cliche ways like climbing Everest I'm sure. I don't even like climbing stairs. Or I'm sure running a marathon could do it, but look at me -- I'm not really running any marathons.
For me, that meeting occurred when I recently connected with the milieu that is summer food. One food. No, one bite of one meal struck a resonant chord, and I was instantly connected with the essence of summer break in a way that I haven't experienced in a long time. We tried, with limited success to grow a garden last year. This year, our success was much greater. We were able to grow tomatoes. I know what you're thinking "any idiot can grow tomatoes." But it was tough for me so BACK OFF. So anyway, we did. We are proud of ourselves. So, for the first time since the last summer on Cherry Street [that's in Illinois where I grew up] I made my favorite summer treat.
For some people the taste of summer may be snow cones on the corner, corn dogs at the fair, or kool-aid on the back porch. For me, the taste that brought back memories of summer was a tomato and cucumber sandwich on toasted bread spread lightly with mayonnaise. Simple right? That's the beauty. The memory fits that simplicity. Summer used to be that. Remember if you can.
We used to wake up in the morning when we wanted to, and in the afternoon if we didn't. Only, in those days, we usually wanted to. We would watch cartoons and eat cereal on the couch. After not too long, we would call some friends and ride our bikes to the pool. Sometimes we stopped at the park. Usually, we didn't. We swam for hours. Actually, we sat for hours watching others watching others watching one or two people actually swimming. It was some kind of a strange merry-go-round of people watching people.
Eventually, we succumbed to the only force great enough to tear us from that primal force which makes us stare -- hunger. We hopped back on our bikes peddled as fast as the heat of the day would allow, and arrived home to find nothing to eat. After looking in the same refrigerator several times, coming just short of resigning ourselves to death by starvation, someone -- instinctively I'm sure-- remembered the garden. Maybe there was something there. It was always the same, cucumbers and tomatoes. Simply put -- the taste of summer.
I connected to that forgotten memory of me, and it was good. Perhaps, that is what I needed this summer -- to mingle with the memory of what life used to be. What life used to mean. It was simple. And it was good.
Ammon took the day off work to go on a date with me . . . to the dentist. Our last trip to the dentist was 10 years ago for Ammon and 6 years ago for me.
time Lady Erin was able to change her blog background whenever she wanted. However, this also resulted in accidentally erasing links, widgets, her husband's play lists, etc. 
