Summer has jumped the gun this year, rushing her entrance onto my doorstep a full three weeks before the solstice. Her usual entourage of bugs - black flies, mosquitoes, deer flies, and ants - are all present and correct for June 21 too. Even the "Bobbsey Twins", high humidity and poor air quality have shown up this week along with a heat warning in tow. My plants and flowers which last week were dodging frost, are this week crying out for copious drinks and umbrellas. There has been no rain here since May 20th and so the fire danger is high. Please, PLEASE be vigilant.
Watching my grandchildren splashing in their backyard wading pool this past Sunday brought back a flood of memories.
Hot! Hot! Hot! So hot the tar bubbles up between the pebbles on the road; round, shiny black globs. I can smell the tar - acrid gasoline fumes rise up from the road surface. My flip flops stick haphazardly as I walk; sometimes a step is unhindered, other times the foam sole sticks then releases raising fine black strands of gooeyness. Round flat, black globs decorate the bottom of my favourite summer footwear. I scuff over to the lawn hoping the grass will wipe away the sticky tar. It's futile. Now I have flipflops with green grass clippings stuck to them.
Happy days with wind in my face bike rides, 5¢ popsicles, 10¢ ice cream cones, Coppertone® sun tan lotion or maybe just a coating of baby oil (there was no sunscreen), big circulating fans swirling in the windows (the only A/C we had), family bbq's, and a backyard pool made summer an absolute delight.
me just chillin', 1972 |
Freshly filled in the first week of June each year, the water temperature began as a bracing 16°C (61°F) and then crawled it's way up to a blistering 23°C (74°F) by mid-August, aided at least in some small part by my mother and I dumping buckets of hot water to it while Dad was at work!
Dad's idea of chillin' in the pool, 1972 |
Mom 1971 |
My version of taking a dive, 1972 |
Stay cool folks. Be fire smart.
©2023 April Hoeller
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