Lemonade Afternoons

June 1^st – 90 degrees.


A day like today takes me back to my childhood. As I ponder a time when I was about five or six years old, I remember hot summer days like this one. And my mother’s homemade lemonade.

I’d outgrown my need for an afternoon nap, or so I thought. But my clever mother knew that after I played hard all day, I’d be getting tired and irritable by about two o’clock. So she’d appear on the back porch around that time, call me and tell me to invite my playmates to come and sit on the porch for a while and have some ice cold lemonade.

She didn’t have to ask twice. There were always at least three friends – sometimes more, and everyone rushed to take my mother up on her invitation.

What a nice treat! We’d sit there sipping the cold liquid, giggling and telling stories that can be conjured up only by kids that age. One little girl was known for her tall tales, and the rest of us tried our best to come up with something even more far-fetched than she. The stories ranged from one little girl’s brother killing a bear with his bare hands, and a little boy’s father holding a rattlesnake without getting bitten, to another little boy climbing so high in a tree that he was able to touch a big fluffy white cloud. “That’s the truth!” he said, wide-eyed.

In the evening, while I was getting my bath, I’d relate my friends’ stories to my mother and she’d laugh heartily. I think she looked forward to hearing them.

If only I could remember all of those fabrications, I could write a book and call it "Tall Tales for Summer Afternoons."

My mother would like that!

Happiness

What is happiness? And how does one find it? If you really want the answer to this question, just observe a child for a while. Children don’t even have to think about it. Their lives are made up of new and first experiences; they get up each morning excited about what will happen today. What’s more, most of them are enthusiastic about learning new things in school.

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if adults were equally as excited about learning and experiencing new things? Having learned our ABC’s and 123’s a long time ago, the majority of us have become indifferent about the events life holds for us each day. We get up every morning and go through our daily routine without any real emotion – unless someone cuts us off in traffic, that is. Unlike children, we are fairly certain we won’t be learning anything new and exciting during our ordinary day, so we don’t expect it.

Perhaps that’s the key—learning to live with the expectation that something new and fascinating will happen each day. If only we could look at the world through childlike eyes and see things based on truth rather than appearances and remain open to life’s lessons as we gain a new level of understanding and awareness. Every day presents opportunities to learn and share new insights with others.

Abe Lincoln said, “Most folks are about as happy as they make up their minds to be.”

I agree.  Enjoy life now – it has an expiration date!

Lurking In The Shadows

When a relative wrote to tell me about all the animals she’s been seeing around her new country home, it took me back to a summer, years ago, when I sometimes felt like I lived in a jungle.

I had to take my small dog, Sadie, outside several times a day. I’d take her out the back door where there is a screened patio with another door to the outside yard. I’d let her out and wait until she was ready to come back in. A nervous little dog, she didn’t linger, so it only took a few minutes.

Things went fine during the day, but late at night, I never knew what I was going to encounter when I turned on the porch light and opened the door. Sometimes it was only a rabbit or squirrel that quickly darted across the yard, startling me temporarily...  but I’ve seen opossums freeze in their tracks when the light went on. The way those glassy eyes stared at me gave me the heebie-jeebies!

There were also numerous doves sleeping in the safety of the overhang on the house. They didn’t seem to be afraid—only annoyed by the disturbance. And then there was the time I stepped on the black snake’s tail thinking it was a bird feather sticking up out of a crack in the concrete walk. I’m surprised it didn’t bite me. When I later found out it was a snake – you guessed it! Heebie-jeebies!

Poor dog was oblivious to all of this; she was blind as a bat! Which brings to mind another story: One night I opened the door and saw what I thought were three birds flying around in a circle on my screened patio. Holding onto Sadie, I quickly closed the door. Lucky for me, I’m terrified of birds! 

When I fetched my husband to get rid of them so I could take Sadie out, he took one look and said, “Those aren’t birds; they have no tails. They’re bats!” Now my husband is a brave man, but not even he wanted to tangle with three bats in close quarters, so, just this once, Sadie went out the front door to “do her thing” before bed. I slept very little that night. Fortunately, the bats found their way out before morning, but I was never very comfortable taking Sadie out late at night again.

I no longer have a dog, so I have no reason to go out there at night. It’s hard to say what might be lurking in the shadows nowadays. I don’t think I want to find out. 

Yes or No?

Recently, while looking through some of my mother's belongings, I ran across this poem. It's dated 1940, so it is quite old. Therefore, you may find some of its suggestions amusing and not at all appropriate for today. Still, I found it interesting and entertaining. Perhaps you will, too.

Dirndl: Traditional Women's Clothes from Germany and Austria

 Lines To A Daughter

One of the things you really should know

Is when to say “yes” and when to say “no.”

There aren’t any textbooks, there aren’t any rules,

The subject’s neglected in orthodox schools.

You can’t be consistent; there’s often a reason

For changing your mind with a change in the season.

You may be quite right in accepting at seven

Suggestions you’d better refuse at eleven.

Perhaps you’ll consider these tentative hints:

“No” to a dirndl of highly glazed chintz,

“Yes” to the bashful young man at the dance,

“No” to the man who’s been living in France.

“Yes” to a walk in the park in the rain

“Yes” if he asks for a chance to explain.

“No” to all slacks unless you’re too thin,

“No” to that impulse to telephone him.

“Yes” to a baby and “No” to a bore

“No” if you’re asked if you’ve heard it before.

“Yes” to a Saturday, “No” to a Monday

“Yes” to a salad and “No” to a sundae.

“Yes” to a stranger (but use some discretion)

“No” to three cocktails in rapid succession

“No” if he’s misunderstood by his wife

“Yes” if you want it the rest of your life.

Remember, my darling, careers and caresses

Depend on our choices of “No’s” and “Yes’s!"

                                           ~Agnes Rogers

I Wish I Didn't Know

Feels like the end of something.

Those of you who have followed my blog for a while, no doubt, read the series of posts about my March trip to Florida to visit my lifelong friend, Carol. We enjoyed an unforgettable four days together!

I returned knowing that she and her friend, Dave, were planning a trip here in late May. She was looking forward to visiting her only brother, her granddaughter, and several friends, as well as paying her respects to the gravesites of her parents and other relatives. We’d be getting together, too, of course. Therefore, knowing I’d be seeing her again in a couple of months, it never occurred to me to be the least bit concerned about the possibility of a last good-bye.

My husband and I treated them to dinner at a nice restaurant last night. We enjoyed a leisurely meal, each other’s company, lively conversation and some laughs. It was very nice! Hugging before entering our respective cars, I told her to phone me one last time before leaving for home on Wednesday morning. She said she would.

Waving as we moved away in opposite directions, sadness swept over me. It was that feeling my grandmother used to talk about—the one that arouses fear that this might possibly be the last time you’ll ever see this person to whom you're waving.

Carol and I are not old. But we are at an age when we’ve lost both our grandparents, and our parents. And with them gone, there is no longer a barrier between us and our mortality. We’ve seen many of our high school friends pass as well as others we’ve made along the way. It’s not uncommon to spot familiar names in the obituary several times a week.

To make matters worse, Carol informed me last night that she has a potentially serious health problem and will be having further testing done in June. I wish I didn’t know.

My mind has been occupied all day with thoughts of our past. So many memories. Good and bad. Two lifetimes intertwined. Kindred Spirits!

How could we ever say a final, “Good-bye?”

Spring Cleaning

Finally. The sunshine that was supposed to be here on Thursday arrived today. Seems to mean business, too. It’s not wishy-washy like it was yesterday when it only teased us by peeking between gray clouds intermittently.

It’s already 77°. After all the rain we’ve had lately, one can almost hear the grass growing. And oh, is it green? Such a beautiful bright shade of green! Everything looks so fresh and clean. 

The month of May is almost gone. Yesterday was my mother’s birthday. She passed away almost seven years ago. I miss her most at this time of year. She loved it. To her, warm, sunny weather meant tearing up the house and cleaning it from stem to stern. As a child, I hated it. So did my father.

On a sunny day like today, when we heard her say, “Oh my, this bright sunshine shows up all the dirt,” we’d look at each other and grimace. We knew what was coming.

For at least two weeks, the whole house would be a maze of boxes and clutter that was almost impossible to get through as my mother painted, cleaned out closets, rearranged kitchen cabinets, scrubbed the inside and outside of the refrigerator and range, cleaned windows, washed and ironed every curtain in the house, shampooed carpets and waxed floors.

When it was all finished, my father and I were exhausted, but Mother was still energetic and oh, so proud of her sparkling clean house.

As a result of my mother’s cleanliness mania, I never “spring clean.” That is to say, my whole house is never torn up at once! I wouldn’t be able to stand it. It’s one room at a time, or nothing. And if I can’t get it all done in one day, forget it. I can’t tolerate the confusion for days on end.

Today, I smile as I think of my mother. She’d almost certainly be saying, “Oh my, this sunshine shows up all the dirt. I’d better get busy!”

Happy Sunny Weekend!

Tomorrow

Okay, it’s Thursday! 

Where’s the sunshine my husband promised (here)? That was two days ago and I’ve been waiting, not so patiently, for those bright, warm rays of sunshine.

It’s not all bad. I stuck my head out the door a little while ago and was greeted with the pleasing smell that lingers after a spring rain. And I couldn’t help but notice how green everything looks. That’s very nice. But the temperature is only 59°. And it’s still dreary. I’m ordering up a nice sunny day in the 70’s; a day when I don’t have to turn on all the lights in the house.

In a perfect world, we’d be able to do that: order our weather according to what we were doing on any given day. But then, everyone wouldn’t want the same thing and it would be too confusing.

I suppose that’s the reason we have no control over these matters. We’re only human. Unfortunately, our brains don’t function at even a fraction of what they’re capable of... and so, there are many things we aren't given the power to control.

And that’s very hard on us control freaks!